Fragmented Soul: The Furry Bits
by StrawberryGirl87
Summary: A collection of short stories involving the characters and the world of Fragmented Soul. Scenes that would never fit into the main story but happened in that world. Snippets into the lives of and back stories of the characters as well as key events in their lives that led up to Fragmented Soul.
1. Baloo Bear

Baloo Bear

Part of the Fragmented Soul world.

In this scene Harry is five years old. Severus is being forced to move from their home once again after Harry preforms magic in front of and on some muggles. This is a short snippet into their lives when Harry is still a young child.

August 1985

Severus paced restlessly across his potions lab, hands running through his hair in furious agitation. They had only been here for a year and a half and it looked like they would have to move yet again; this would be the second time now that they had been forced to leave the place that they were trying to call home. Harry hadn't meant to; he had only just turned five the month before and his magic was beginning to get uncontrollable.

He had never known for a child to show such early signs of accidental magic, though he had always known that Harry was bound to be a special if not an entirely unique child. The trouble was that the Ministry of magic might possibly be able to trace such large bursts of power which meant that it wasn't safe here anymore. He couldn't risk staying here not with the chance that they might be found.

Severus had managed to fix the pretty, blonde, muggle girl's eyes after Harry had somehow managed to turn them bright green to match his own. He had even managed to remove the fluffy white wings, which she had been adorned with much to the horror of her parents and then proceeded to erase all the memories that he needed to but he knew it wouldn't be enough to allow them to stay. He would never have peace of mind if they stayed which meant they would have to go.

Removing his wand Severus began to shrink and pack everything they needed from his potions lab, almost everything else could easily be bought again but he needed his potions equipment for his business. He had hoped that they would be able to settle here more permanently however it wasn't to be apparently. Finishing the packing fairly quickly with his wand in hand, he moved through into the sitting room next where he had left Harry in front of a DVD. His heart melted at what he saw there. Harry had fallen asleep watching his favourite film. This normally changed weekly, as with any child of that age but currently it was The Jungle Book and that seemed to unwavering, at least for the moment.

Severus had even bought him a stuffed toy Baloo bear which was half the size of Harry himself. Harry had cuddled up with it half using the toy as a pillow, his knees tucked up under his body and bum in the air, arms wrapped protectively around Baloo. The film was still playing on the television as the little boy slept through it and Severus couldn't help but smile. His hair, as usual, was sticking up all over the place and just beneath his fringe was the hideous lightning shaped scar. His little Harry.

Every time he looked upon the little boy's sweet, chubby cheeks and toothy grin, he knew that all the moving and the risks were worth it. His little powerful baby boy would be safe , protected and loved. Any anger or irritation at having to now find somewhere else to live faded at the soft murmurings coming from his son's lips as he floated through his dreams.

It had taken Severus some time to adjust to fatherhood but now that he had got into the swing of being a single father as well as running his own business to support them both and not to mention teaching Harry everything he would need to know it really wasn't so bad. Most children Harry's age were starting primary school, at least in the muggle world. Severus however couldn't risk it. He had known that he would always have to tutor Harry at home; he could never risk sending him to school, magical or otherwise.

Watching Harry grow up was enough to remind him every day that he couldn't ask for a better life for either of them, despite the sacrifices that he had had to make. Even if that life meant that they were constantly on the run, it was still better than allowing Dumbledore to use the boy for whatever plan he had cooked up. It was the price they had to pay for staying safe and away from the likes of Albus Dumbledore.

Taking care not to wake him, Severus scooped up the not so small infant into his arms. Instantly the small child shifted in his sleep, snuggling himself into his father's warm embrace, clutching desperately at his Baloo bear. Severus held him there, studying every inch of the innocent face. He had known James since he was eleven years old, he knew that Harry would be the spitting image of his father even though he was only five. It was clear even now how much he would look like James Potter but there were definite signs of Lily there too and Severus focused on them.

Strangely though seeing James in the young boy didn't bother Severus in the slightest because every time he looked into the startling green eyes he was reminded of Lily. The woman who he still missed dearly and thought about daily, he would never forget her, it wasn't possible to merely forget everything that they had shared. Severus would tell Harry about Lily as he grew, he would make sure that her darling Harry would know the wonderful woman that had given him life and then sacrificed her own to save it.

With a deep sigh he carried the five year old up the stairs to his bedroom. Drawing back the blankets on his bed he tucked Harry in, remembering fondly how adamant the child had been at wanting deep green bedding. Leaning down he placed a kiss upon the boy's forehead, stroking back the raven hair from his closed eyes.

"Love you, my little Harry," Severus whispered softly as he stood up to leave, thinking that he should continue packing their things so that they could leave come dawn. However as he attempted to quietly tiptoe out of the room he heard Harry turn over in his sleep, emerald eyes blinking open.

"Daddy," the little boy murmured sleepily, rubbing his eyes with clenched fists. "Daddy," he repeated again a little more desperately.

"It's okay little one," Severus said soothingly going back to sit by the bed so that his son could see him. "Go back to sleep, Harry," he whispered, a hand going to stroke the mass of dark hair.

"Stay," Harry replied sleepily, his eye lids already starting to droop again as he tugged Baloo bear closer to him.

Severus smiled fondly at the small child and nodded his head, "Always," he whispered.


	2. The Colour Green

Part of the Fragmented Soul World

Harry has a nightmare and Severus soothes him ... This is how Harry came to have green bedding.

October 1986

"DADDY!" Harry screamed, "DADDY!" Instantly Severus was out of bed and running to his son's room. The terrified scream made him think of Aurors, werewolves and of Dumbledore. Had they been found? He ran through the house to little Harry's bedroom where he found his six year old son sobbing. He had seemingly fallen out of his bed and was curled up on the floor holding his own knees, tears streaming down his cheeks.

It was Halloween, of course. There were no Aurors, no Dumbledore and there weren't any werewolves, apart from Harry himself, either, not the real kind, only the pretend kind that muggles liked to dress up as. They hadn't been found, they were still safe but it still broke his heart to see his son crying hysterically from his nightmares.

There were nights throughout the year where Severus was woken by Harry screaming from the horrors he had seen in his sleep, but it happened, without fail, every year on the anniversary of Lily's death, though the boy was far too young to understand the connection yet. Severus had used his skills over the mind to look into Harry's head and discover the cause of the night terrors and he had been horrified at what he had seen.

A locket being dropped in water; a room of broken things that seemed piled so high it was impossible that they remained standing tall; a run down house in a forest; a beautiful golden cup that Severus thought might be the Hufflepuff cup but he couldn't be sure, in a room of glittering treasure. The items were of no concern to him however, what was more worrying was the flash of green light and the screaming woman. Harry saw Lily dying in front of his eyes and that repressed memory haunted him in his sleep on the anniversary of her death.

There were also images of a great green snake with bright yellow eyes that Severus could not identify from any breed of serpent that he knew existed in the world today. He could see how much the images terrified his son, how Harry told him that his scar hurt him when he awoke with his own screams. There were things that he couldn't hope to understand, and were terrifying to a six year old. He had already decided that he would teach Harry occlumency once he was a bit older, hopefully that would help.

Severus scooped up the tiny boy and carried him back through to his own bedroom, where the two of them lay down together on the double bed, the still crying six year old cuddled into his father, sobbing his little heart out.

"I hate the colour green!" the six year old stated irrationally causing Severus to laugh a little, holding his son close.

"Why do you hate the colour green, Harry?" Severus asked kindly as he ran his fingers through the unruly black hair atop the small boy's head.

"I see Mummy dying and lots and lots of green." To hear Harry speak of how he remembered Lily die was heart wrenching. He had hoped that Harry would have no recollection of any of it, on any other day of the year he didn't, only on this night.

"You know there are lots of wonderful things that are green too you know, Harry," Severus said softly to his son, trying to sooth the small boy and to calm him.

"Like what?" Harry asked, looking up at his father with a frown as they lay facing each other on the bed.

"Grass, leaves, they're green but do you want to know why green is my very favourite colour?" Severus asked and Harry looked up at him through watery eyes, nodding. "Your eyes are the most beautiful shade of green I have ever seen. They are the exact same shade of green of your mother's eyes. They made me fall in love with her you know."

"I miss Mummy," Harry said as he cuddled into his Dad. Severus wrapped strong arms around the infant, holding him close.

"I miss her too," Severus whispered softly.

The two of them fell asleep lying together, Harry snuggled into the warmth of his Dad, accepting the comfort. Thankfully no more nightmares found him for the remainder of the night. Come morning, after the two of them had had breakfast, Severus took his son out to the shops where they picked out a simple green bedding set.

As they were walking around the homeware store, Harry sat in the trolley, holding the packaged green duvet cover close to his chest he looked up to his Dad and said; "I think green might be my favourite colour now too." Severus smiled tenderly at the young boy, leaning down and placing a kiss upon his scarred forehead.


	3. Imperial Ceylon

The Fluffy Bits

Part of the Fragmented Soul World

Imperial Ceylon

Lukas at the age of ten and how his love of tea came about, also how he came to be on bad terms with his father.

May 1984

"That's Palace Earl Grey," she instructed, her ten year old son, who was looking up at her with apt enthusiasm. She took a sip of the tea, letting herself breath in the slightly citrusy aroma mixed with that of heady black tea. The two of them shared their curly chestnut hair and dull blue eyes but otherwise Lukas Faris was the spitting image of his father, a man who wanted very little to do with his only child. Claire had been overjoyed to share her love of tea with her little boy who seemed to relish each brew he tried.

Malcolm Faris had very little time for Lukas; the boy was far too intellectual and had very little in the way of brawn, how Malcolm believed a boy should be. Though that was only part of the reason; Malcolm hadn't looked at his son the same since it had happened.

"I think I prefer the Imperial Ceylon," Lukas said as he took hold of the delicate teacup with that particular brew and took a small sip. He'd already drank two cups of the stuff this morning alone. His mother had always said he was something of an old man, stuck in a young boy's body; Lukas, of course, had taken this as quite the compliment as he prided himself on being 'a real English gentleman'. "Oh yes, this is my favourite," he told her.

Claire chuckled, she so loved her little man, despite his unfortunate disease. Malcolm been furious, had wanted to cast him aside, disown the boy, and try again for another that wouldn't have the dreaded and feared Lycanthropy curse but Claire had point blank refused. It was the reason they had never given Lukas any siblings; Claire had feared that Lukas would become neglected and unloved if she were to give Malcolm another child, whether it was a son or a daughter.

Ever since he had been bitten and regrettably infected, Claire had kept Lukas hidden from the world. She had been afraid that they just wouldn't understand. It was her choice to tutor him at home rather than to send him to a magical school that wouldn't have known how to cope with his disease. It worked well for them now that Malcolm spent more time at work than he did at home.

Lukas poured himself another cup of Imperial Ceylon with a smile on his young face. He relished this time with his mother. His father was not a man whom he could get along with. Not that Malcolm ever spent time with him anymore, not since he had been bitten when he was just five years old, but Lukas didn't mind this so much; he much preferred the company of his mother, who had given him her love of tea. It was something special that just the two of them shared and that is why Lukas treasured it so much.

"How about you try this one, Lukas," she suggested fondly, pouring the hot water through the strainer holding a blend of chai tea that was her own personal favourite. Lukas, obliging his mother, took the tea cup and took a delicate sip of the hot heavily spiced liquid.

"It's lovely, but I still prefer the Ceylon," Lukas told her with a smile and Claire nodded her approval. This was their ritual, every morning after Malcolm had left for work and before they began his lessons; they would sit together and decide upon which tea to drink while they studied together. The light burning in the ten year olds eyes as they discussed the various blends warmed her heart.

"I thought we could start by having a look at that new Arithmancy book you got yesterday," Claire suggested, delighted by the expression of delight that Lukas was wearing when he looked up from his tea. Lukas' love of Arithmancy and numbers was one thing he had gotten from his father. The young boy was certainly something to admire, Claire had never known a child quite like him.

He put his teacup carefully down on the table, hardly able to withhold his excitement. "I'll go get it," he told her eagerly, rushing off up the stairs.

Claire was carefully topping up Lukas' Ceylon tea in his favourite teacup, when the front door was opened rather forcefully, slamming against the wall and making her jump in surprise and alarm.

By the time she had placed the delicate china tea pot upon the table her husband was stood in the doorway to their kitchen, looking furious; he had only been gone half an hour at most and she should couldn't begin to imagine what had her husband so riled up.

"Malcolm? Whatever is the matter, my love?" she asked kindly, getting up and stepping around the table towards him.

He sneered at her in absolute disgust, "I want a divorce," he said and then with mocking he added, "my love." Claire's breath caught in her throat as the words were spoken, her heart clenching as the word divorce was spat at her so hatefully.

Lukas stalled at the top of the stairs, his father was home. He had the Arithmancy book clutched desperately tightly to his chest. He could hear every word that his parents said and when his dad uttered the word divorce he almost dropped his book. He had never so much as miss-used a book in his life.

His attention was intently on the conversation that was going on downstairs, trying to figure out why his father would have come home early and why he would be asking his Mum for a divorce. He crept down a couple of steps and tried to curl himself up small, listening with great care, not wanting to miss a word, but also definitely not wanting to go downstairs or be anywhere his father.

He kept the book tucked up with him, between his chest and knees, resting his chin upon the hard cover as he heard his mother ask, "A divorce, where has this come from?" She genuinely sounded surprised as if this had come from nowhere. Lukas could never recall his parents ever exchanging cross words before now, it didn't make any sense.

"I want to marry someone else, someone who has my child, a child that isn't a monster!" As the words left Malcolm's lips, Lukas realised that it was his fault, his father was leaving because of him. His mother was losing her husband because he was a werewolf.

"You… you cheated on me…" Lukas heard his mother say, sounding heartbroken, and he felt the guilt burn inside him. He wanted to run away, hide, pretend this wasn't happening. Maybe if he went away his father would stay and then his Mum could still be happy.

Lukas put the book aside, took a deep breath before charging down the stairs and into the kitchen where his father was squaring up to his mother. "I'll leave" he declared, "I'll go away, just don't leave mum."

"Stay out of this!" Malcolm snarled, not even turning to look at his ten year old son. "I will have the papers with you by the end of the week, you will sign them," he told Claire. "Obviously you can keep… him," Malcolm sneered, with a half glance at Lukas who was standing looking between his parents worriedly.

"I'll leave, I swear, I'll leave right now," Lukas promised, pulling on his father's sleeve.

"Go upstairs, Lukas," Claire told him

"No mum, I want you to be happy," Lukas said sadly, he didn't want to go away, he didn't want to leave his Mum, but for her sake he would do it.

Claire turned away from Malcolm, kneeling down in front of her son with a smile on her lips and tears in her dull blue eyes. "I'm happy with you, dear one,"

"You don't mean that mum, I'm a monster," Lukas told her, his gaze falling to the floor, where he could see his tears landing near his feet.

"No, Lukas," Claire insisted gently, tipping his chin up to meet his tearful eyes, and drying them with a thumb, "your father is the monster."

That was enough for Malcolm who suddenly felt that he had to show them just how much of a monster he was. With the swipe of one large, brutish arm, he had brushed the pot, cups and saucers, so precisely laid out by mother and son, on to the floor. The delicate china tea set smashing to the tiled ground with a tremendous crash, the remainder of the tea splashing onto every nearby surface.

Claire and Lukas froze in horror. They had picked out the beautiful tea set together a month previously for her birthday. The shards of it now covering the floor irreparable even with magic. "Lukas, dear one, please go upstairs," she pleaded with her son. Malcolm had never been a calm or composed man and she didn't want her little boy to be caught in the crossfire.

"No, Mum, I won't let him hurt you," Lukas told her, wrapping his arms around her tightly and protectively.

"Finally growing some balls!" Malcolm snapped, looking at his son for the first time. "Too little, too late, I've replaced you boy. If you could only have managed it before you let that monster bite you," he said with disgust.

"He was FIVE!" Claire yelled in anger, there was nothing that Lukas could have done, there was nothing any of them could have done that fateful night. And Malcolm knew that. If he was going to be gone from their lives then she sure wasn't going to let him leave behind such ideas in Lukas' head.

In a moment of fury, Lukas let go of his mother and ran forward teeth bared, wanting to bite his father; to make him see how well he was able to defend himself against such an attack, even as a child; wanting to punish him for being so mean. However Malcolm saw this attack coming and was able to push away the boy who had always been small for his age. Not even becoming a werewolf could alter that fact.

"Don't you touch him!" Claire raged, grabbing Lukas and holding him close. "You'll have your divorce," she said, her voice holding firm.

"Finally learned to do what you are told," he said smugly, "seems you and your boy have that in common. Learning what I tried to teach you, just too little, too late." Malcolm let out a laugh and pushed Lukas' teacup off the side of the table, just to watch his son's reaction. They would understand who was in control of the situation.

Lukas watched, as almost in slow motion, his favourite teacup fell to the ground. The Imperial Ceylon brew that it had contained practically exploding across the tiled kitchen floor, the china shattering and scattering. A single tear escaped from the corner of his eye but he stood firm, his mother's comforting arms around him. He had to be strong for his mother now, he had to make her proud.

"OUT!" Claire shouted, "Get out," she said more quietly, blinking her own tears from her eyes as she looked at the sad expression on Lukas' face.

"Gladly," Malcolm snarled, "I'll be back for my stuff, it better be packed by tomorrow."

"You want it packed you'll do it yourself or get your whore to do it," Claire told him with barely contained fury, "if it's still here tomorrow night I'll burn it."

"And I'll help," Lukas piped up, puffing out his chest in proud determination.

Without another word Malcolm turned and left, slamming the front door to signal that he was gone. Instantly Claire was on her knees in tears, sobbing, grieving for her broken marriage. Lukas collapsed down next to her, the spilt tea soaking up into his jeans.

"I'm sorry, Mummy," he said softly, using an endearment he hadn't said in years. "How about I make more tea for us?" he asked sweetly and Claire smiled at him, his question chasing away her sorrow.

She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly and giving thanks for her wonderful little boy, speaking softly close to his ear, "Yes, dear one, let us have some tea."


	4. Snatched

The Fluffy Bits

Part of the Fragmented Soul World

Snatched

The night Romy was taken from her parents.

February 1993

"Romy, darling," her mother called; the eleven year old girl sighed in annoyance. Lying on her bed on her stomach, kicking her legs up in the air, she had been writing in her diary quite happily until her mother had shouted her.

"Yes, Mum," she called back, not wanting to go downstairs. Her father was working late this evening and she could smell dinner wafting all over the house. Her big brother, Jake, had friends over and they were always mean to her. Romy could hear them on their playstation in the living room, shouting abuse at the television.

"Could you come here please." Romy huffed in annoyance, closing her diary and sliding it subtly underneath her mattress where she always hid it so that her nosy big brother, who did so like to tease her, wouldn't find it.

Stomping from her bedroom and down the stairs to see what her mother wanted, she let her mind drift a little, thinking about how she couldn't wait to go off to Hogwarts. Then she wouldn't have to deal with her averagely normal, and overly boring, family anymore. She had laughed so hard at Jake when she had received her Hogwarts letter on her eleventh birthday two months previously. All her family were muggles, none of them had an ounce of magic in them and yet she was a witch.

She couldn't go until September but she knew that it would be wonderful. Romy didn't care that her father hadn't spoken a word to any of them since the letter from Hogwarts had arrived. Her mother didn't really want to talk about it either but had at least given her daughter the choice about whether or not she wanted to go. Romy had eagerly said that she did. In the two months that she had known about what she was, the young girl had read everything and anything she could get her hands on about the school and what she would learn.

"What is it, Mum?" Romy asked as she came into the kitchen where her mum was putting the vegetables on to boil.

"Could you be a dear and go to the shop for me, I can't leave the dinner," she said, looking at her youngest child pleadingly.

"Can't Jake go?" Romy said with annoyance; the last thing she wanted to do was traipse to the corner shop in the middle of February, through the slush, that had once been snow, and the freezing wind.

"Your brother has his friends round, please Romy, just do this for me, please," her mother pleaded.

"Fine, what do you need?" Romy asked, crossing her arms over her chest with irritation.

"Milk and bread please sweetheart, grab some money from my purse and get some sweets for yourself while you're there but save them until after your dinner okay."

"Yes, Mum," Romy droned as she sulked off to find her welly boots.

She found everything she needed, including her mums handbag in the entrance hall to their modest family home, pulling on her black Blink 182 hoodie for warmth and tugging the hood up over her head, her pig tails only just long enough to poke out. Shoving her feet into her boots she grabbed some money and left without saying goodbye, still unhappy at being asked to go at all.

The wind was bitter and she had to keep her head bowed low as she walked, the light rain only adding to the slush and ice on the floor. She kept her hands in her pockets and her eyes on the floor, watching for icy patches so that she wouldn't fall. It was unusually quiet, very few people being stupid enough to brave the weather, even the roads were lacking in traffic.

Despite her effort and caution to avoid them, Romy hit an icy patch and found her footing lost as she tumbled to the ground, landing with a graceless thud on her behind. Her hands leaving her pockets just in time to break her fall. With a muttered profanity at having wet jeans and a sore bum she started to heave herself up.

"Here, let me help you," a voice said from across the street. Her hood had fallen when she had fell and the rain was getting in her hair and making it frizz but Romy had never been one to care about things like that, she only cared that it made her feel colder. She looked up to see a young man rush over, he couldn't have been more than seventeen or eighteen, he had auburn hair and as he got closer she noted his bright, beautiful eyes.

"Umm … thanks," she said, accepting his helping hand when it was offered. "This weather never really helps the uncoordinated." She could feel the blush rising in her cheeks when he didn't remove his hand from hers.

He chuckled as he brought her to her feet, "You alright, you didn't hurt yourself did you?" he asked and Romy was surprised that he genuinely sounded concerned.

"Only my pride," Romy returned with a shy smile.

"I'm Jack," the stranger said unexpectedly.

"Romy," she told him, all in a flutter. Guys never noticed her, ever. Especially not older, handsome guys. She was too tom-boyish, too plain, too clumsy and had always chosen books over make-up and clothes.

"Where you heading? Maybe I could walk you there so we can avoid any more accidents," Jack asked.

"Just to the shop, my mum wanted me to grab some stuff for her," Romy said, biting her lip nervously.

"Just my luck, I was looking for a shop; my family are new to the area and I'm a bit lost," Jack confided in her, his voice a whisper as if it were a secret.

Romy gave a small, nervous laugh, "It's not far from here," she told him, "I'll show you the way."

"And in return, I'll make sure you don't fall," he bargained and she nodded her agreement.

"Sounds like a plan," She said, her cheeks burning red and her heart beating unbelievably fast. Jack hadn't let go of her hand since helping her up.

Romy Chester never made it home that night. Her mother waited two hours before calling the police. When her father returned home from work he went out looking for his youngest child. He walked the path that she would have taken to the local shop and asked the woman behind the counter if she had seen her, however she told him she hadn't been in that evening. He drove around endlessly looking for any trace of his eleven year old daughter.

Her mother held her son close to her, tears streaming down her cheeks as she called every friend she knew Romy to have but none of them had seen her. The entire town was soon out searching for her but to no avail. By the time it came to light, thanks to a nosy old lady, obsessed with spying on the neighbourhood through her net curtains, that Romy had been seen talking to a young man, it was too late to do much with the information.

For months the police scouted the area and made a fuss but no trace of her was ever found, it was like she disappeared off the face of the earth. The Chester family held out hope that she was still alive, as a body was never recovered, but they were devastated by the loss of Romy, blaming themselves and always wondering what if.


	5. The Beginning

The Fluffy Bits

Part of the Fragmented Soul World

The Beginning

The bite that started it all ... how Fenrir Greyback became a werewolf.

April 1964

Those stupid muggles didn't understand. He could hear them talking about how much of a problem child he was. Abandoned by his father who didn't even know that he existed, his mother now dead and cold in the ground. Five year old Fenrir Greyback and nothing and no one.

The other children looked down on him, used him as a punching bag. He should have just used the pine wand his mother had bought for him before she had died, he was so proud of it, thirteen inches with a dragon heartstring core. He would have loved to use against the bullies he was forced to share a bedroom with but he could. He didn't know any spells. His mother had not taught him any.

The wand was the only thing she had ever been able to afford to buy him. Knowing that death was coming to her she had used up every penny she had to buy it for him. Fenrir now kept it well hidden, away from where the other children might find it, jealously defending it.

She had only been dead a month, buried for less than that. He wanted to see her again, he wanted to say goodbye. He hadn't been allowed to go to the funeral, they had said he was just too young. He wasn't even sure where she was buried. He knew that there was a cemetery not far from here and he thought that he might try there. He had to start somewhere.

Taking his wand, though it would be very little use to him, Fenrir crept quietly down the stairs. Night had truly set in, no one else in the house was awake. He had watched the comings and goings for the month that he had been here, watching, observing and knew exactly what to do. It was so easy to unlock the door and let himself out. Stupid muggles.

It was cold outside and Fenrir hadn't thought to bring a jacket with him. Wrapping his arms around himself for warmth he kept his head down and moved quickly and silently through the streets. He had always been slightly on the large side for his age but he was still only five years old and no five year old should have been wandering around the streets unaccompanied in the early hours of the morning.

He was fortunate in the fact that he encountered no one, no drunks or homeless people, the streets he walked were empty and silent. He knew the direction, he'd made sure to pay attention every time they'd left the orphanage. He wasn't stupid, he remembered because he remained quiet and he watched and he listened, he saw everything, heard everything.

Glancing up at the sky he saw that the moon was almost full, tomorrow it would be. He'd always been fascinated by the night time sky, his mother and he had loved looking up at the sky, naming the stars and the constellations anything that they could think of because they didn't know their true names. He had thought the moon to be beautiful, his mother's name had meant moon and he always thought of her every time he looked at the bright, shinning orb.

He was determined to find her grave tonight. He wanted to look up at the stars with her one final time. He wanted to make up silly names for all the constellations with her and even though he knew that it wouldn't be the same, that she wouldn't really be there it was something that he had to do.

He reached the wrought iron gates of the graveyard within an hour of leaving the orphanage and without anyone challenging him as to why he was wandering around on his own so late at night. The gates creaked loudly as he opened them a little to squeeze inside. Without any streetlights the only lighting Fenrir had was the moon.

Cold wind blew around him making the young boy shiver. He had no clue if the cemetery had any order to it so he just started scouring headstones looking for the name of his mother. Selene Greyback. There was probably over two hundred people buried here but Fenrir was determined.

The hairs on the back of his neck began to prickle as if he is being watched but he quickly shakes the feeling, concentrating on the job he came here to do. Fenrir didn't want to think that anyone was following him or watching him. He slowly made his way through the graveyard, peering at the headstones searching for the familiar name.

"What are you doing here boy?" A gruff voice said behind him suddenly and without warning causing Fenrir to let out a little shriek of fear making the owner of the voice laugh. Turning to face the man the five year old was shocked to see that the man who spoke had a child with him, a boy that looked roughly around his age if not a little older.

"Visiting my mother," Fenrir said keeping his small voice as unwavering as possible. He didn't want to show any fear.

"She's buried here?" The older man asked, Fenrir nodded, surveying him carefully, terror pumping through him with every beat of his heart. He had dark brown hair and eyes, the child looked remarkably similar to him and Fenrir realised that he was probably looking at father and son.

"Yes," He replied making to take a step back from the two of them, a little frightened as to why they were here, why they had interrupted him in his search for his mother.

"What of your father," The strange man asked.

"Dead," Fenrir said, he knew this to be a lie but the truth was much more complicated and it wasn't something that he would often discuss with anyone, not even his mother. He wasn't about to go into it with a complete stranger.

"Hmmm," the man hummed with interest before turning to his son, "I brought you out to teach you to hunt and look what we have found Gideon, a play mate for you."

"Do you mean it Dad?" The young boy asked eagerly, looking up at his father with bright, hopeful eyes. Fenrir looked between the two of them in confusion, a wave of dread washing over him. He took a hesitant step backwards, his little heart racing.

"I think he will make an excellent addition to the pack," The older man mused thoughtfully and before Fenrir could register what was going on or turn tail and run he had been grabbed around the waist and hoisted none to gently off his feet.

Fenrir screamed as sharp teeth sank into his shoulder, the other young boy looking on with glee. Not one to give up easily, Fenrir started to kick and thrash. He got in a few well aimed blows to the groin and the man loosened his grip enough that Fenrir was able to wriggle free and start to run.

His shoulder ached horribly, tears streaming down his cheeks. However, despite being a little shaky, his legs were working fine and he just started to run. He headed as fast as his little legs could carry him towards the wrought iron gates, frantically trying to get away from the weird father and son duo that had attacked him.

Fenrir Greyback didn't know it then but that was the defining moment of his life. It was that night that shaped the rest of his life and changed the course of many others too because when the next full moon rose, the night after he was bitten, the five year old boy transformed into his wolf. He had had no clue what was happening to him or why but he survived it against all odds and since that night he had been a werewolf.


	6. The First Snitch

The Fluffy Bits

Part of the Fragmented Soul World

The first Snitch

Harry's seventh birthday.

31st July 1987

Severus Prince had been awake since dawn had broken. He was teeming with anxious excitement, awaiting for his son to wake up and come bounding down the stairs. Today was his seventh birthday.

Harry had been pleading for months about getting his very own broom and had been utterly heartbroken when Severus had explained that it was just too risky with them living in a neighbourhood of muggles. Even though he had said this, he had secretly been plotting and managed to keep everything concealed from his young son.

If Severus had had any talent in the kitchen then he would have made pancakes for their breakfast, Harry's favourite. He might even have braved an attempt at baking a cake for him too, however cooking had never been his forte and they would have to settle with store bought.

To make up for this, however, Severus had ensured that the whole day was work free just so that he could spend it with Harry. The presents, that he had bought for the young boy, were placed in pride of place on the kitchen table. They would be the first thing that Harry would see when he came downstairs.

Severus was nursing his third cup of coffee for the morning when he heard heavy, rushed footfalls coming down the stairs. The kitchen door burst open, admitting a blur of blue pyjamas and messy black hair into the kitchen.

"Happy Birthday, Harry!" Severus said with a smile on his face as he found the birthday boy in his arms hugging him tightly.

"Can we have pancakes, Dad, can we, can we?" Harry pleaded, practically jumping up and down in his excitement.

Severus grinned happily at his now seven year old son, "Why don't you open your presents," Severus suggested, "I'll see what I can do about pancakes."

Harry's eyes lit up at the mention of presents, switching his gaze to the kitchen table where he saw several beautifully wrapped gifts waiting for him. "Wow," he said in utter amazement. "Thanks, Dad!"

It was the happiness on his son's face that he had been waiting for, it was the reason that he had been up since before the sun had risen. Making Harry happy made him happy. It took the seven year old just five minutes to find the present that Severus was the most excited to give.

"Dad…" Harry said in awe as he handled the clean sweep training broom, surveying it in utter wonder. "I thought you said…"

"You have to be careful but i think you're old enough now, and responsible enough, to learn how to fly," Severus said as he warmed the store bought pancakes with his wand. "You've earnt it, Harry, I'm very proud of you," Severus finished with a smile as he placed the stack of pancakes on the table, putting a squeezy tube of syrup next to them. He would never understand his son's obsession with sugar or his tolerance to it.

"Thank you so much!" Harry said bounding up to his Dad and hugging him again, still holding on to his broom. Among the other gifts had been a fair few books, something Harry had a great love of. However the one present that excited the young boy just as much as his new training broom had been the smallest gift.

Within the small box, wrapped in green paper with a silver bow had been a little golden ball. Harry had instantly been mesmerized by it, taking it in his hand and watching as it's silvery wings opened and began fluttering against his hold on it.

"You bought me a snitch…" Harry said in utter astonishment.

"It's a training snitch, for budding seekers such as yourself," Severus said fondly as he encouraged his son to take a seat at the table and actually eat his breakfast.

"Wow," Harry said as he put the little ball back in it's box with some difficulty. "Can we go out and try them out dad? Please, please, please, you don't have to work do you?"

Severus smiled, "No, I don't have to work, we have the whole day, just the two of us. We can go out and try them out as soon as you've eaten and got dressed," he said with a fond smile.

Harry nodded eagerly, grabbing the tube of syrup and squirting almost the entire contents of it all over his pancakes. "Harry, you need to have pancakes, as well as syrup, for breakfast, you know," Severus reminded him with a pointed stare. Harry only giggled in response as he took a bite, enjoying the sugar hit it gave him.

Severus was rather glad that he had picked the triple chocolate cake from the supermarket yesterday, he was sure that his son would appreciate it even if he didn't see the appeal of it himself. His son would eat nothing but sugar if it was up to him. Severus, of course, did not approve.

It barely took five minutes for Harry to more or less inhale his rather sugary breakfast, and then Severus had to be pretty insistent that he get dressed before Harry would be allowed to go flying. Even then it still took some persuading to get him to don his shoes before running outside.

"Can we go, Dad? Can I go flying now?" Harry asked eagerly, hopping from foot to foot with his snitch in one hand and the broom in the other, his green eyes wide with anticipation and excitement.

"Yes, Harry, now we can go," Severus agreed, chuckling with amusement, "But let's just try the broom," he called after Harry who had already disappeared out the back door, "... before you release the snitch," he finished saying to the now empty room.

Not really surprised by his son's enthusiasm, Severus followed after him out into the back garden. A smile forming on his lips as he smiled at Harry flying as though he had been doing it for years; his boy was a natural on a broom. He shook his head in disbelief as he saw the seven year old catch the snitch. He had been out there no more than a few minutes; maybe a natural was an understatement. Giving Harry a broom was so going to come back to bite him later, he was sure, but the look of glee on his face was worth it.


	7. Proud but Prejudiced

The Fluffy Bits

Part of the Fragmented Soul World

Proud and Prejudice

How Lukas came to not be speaking to his mother.

Spring 1993

Lukas was sat in his preferred comfy chair, the living room window had been thrown open to let in the first breathes of warm spring air inside of the house, the indulgent scents of nature came to great him as he mulled over the letter he had received a few hours previously. The life changing parchment clasped in one hand, the other holding a tea-cup with his favourite Imperial Ceylon brew.

Sipping at it occasionally he read the letter for what felt like the hundredth time. Ceylon really was his favourite blend with its full aromatic taste with nothing, not even milk added to spoil the delicate flavour. He always wanted to remember this moment because it was the moment that he made it in his chosen career. Drinking this specific blend always made him think of his mother. They were fond, happy memories however and the hot, calming liquid with all its variations in flavour and smell always made him smile. To drink it now, while reading this seemed to be the perfect fit.

The letter that he held in his hand was certainly full of prospect and interest. Lukas was still struggling to come to terms that he had finally been recognized. At eighteen he was probably the youngest wizard to have one of his papers published in the Wizarding Arithmancy journal, that alone was an achievement to be proud of. However it seemed that someone important had liked what they had seen because now the highest of honours was being bestowed upon him. They were inviting him to come to London.

Once a year there was a seminar of sorts where Arithmancer's would gather, a select few would be asked to speak to the group that gathered. It was strictly invitation only and before this year Lukas had never been asked to go. Now, not only was he being asked but he was asking to be one of the guest speakers. A thrill of excitement raced through him at the prospect. He was going to be paid to express his views and present his paper to a group of people that he both admired and respected. Truly a dream come true.

However the thought of going intrigued and terrified him. He would of course love to be in attendance, he was practically giddy at the prospect of being recognized for all his hard work in the field of numerical magic. His hesitation in regards to whether or not he was going to accept the invitation was all to do with his father.

Malcolm Faris went every year without fail. Arithmancy was perhaps the only thing that father and son had in common, apart from the same shaped nose perhaps. Lukas had neither seen nor spoken to the man since he's walked out on him and his mother when Lukas had been only ten years old. He knew nothing of the life his father now lived nor the children he had borne since then. Lukas was aware that somewhere out in the world he had at least one half-brother but it had now been eight years and he could have had a number of other siblings by this point and he wouldn't have known.

Lukas wasn't exactly convinced that he would be able to face his father, not after such a long period of time. They hadn't shared a single word, written or spoken, in the eight years since Malcolm had demanded the divorce and Claire had given it to him. However, Lukas knew that he would never be able to forgive himself for passing up such an opportunity. He wouldn't allow himself to be too scared to follow his dreams and achieve something that he had always hoped to achieve. He refused to allow one man to dictate his life and his career in such a way.

Taking another sip of his tea, he had made up his mind. It hadn't really been a difficult decision to make but he would be going, his father be damned. There was however a small nagging voice in the back of his mind belonging, no doubt, to his inner child that kept telling him that maybe, just maybe, Malcolm would see him stood before a large group of their peers being acknowledged for his work and be proud of his eldest son.

Lukas knew that this was a childish and even a foolish hope but he couldn't help the spark that it ignited in him. He had a deep yearning to prove to his father that despite his curse he was a good man, a good wizard and something to be proud of because despite his mother's love he just wanted his father to be proud of him rather than ashamed.

He finished his tea, relishing in the distinct flavours, taking the time to savour each one upon his tongue. He would need to tell his mum that he was planning on going to London. It was bound to be a difficult conversation between them. They had remained together since Malcolm had walked out, they loved each other as mother and son, sharing a deep bond, hell, they were all each other had. However aside from their love of tea and books they had very little in common.

The older Lukas became the more terrified of her own son Claire had become, or rather of the wolf that was inside of him. Any temper tantrums or bursts of anger from him had always been blamed on the wolf part of him in her eyes, it was something that Lukas had never agreed with. It had become so bad that he had purchased and installed a rather large and sturdy cage in their garden shed, putting up wards and enchantments to give her more peace of mind but nothing seemed to work. He thought that perhaps by moving out they could maybe salvage their relationship before it got to the point where they couldn't spend time together anymore.

"Mum," Lukas called out, trying to determine where she was.

"In the kitchen," Came the soft response making Lukas smile, he should have known that that was where she would be. She sounded preoccupied which meant that she was probably baking, something that Lukas loved to watch her do but had no talent for himself.

Moving through their small house and into the kitchen where he found Claire rolling out pastry with the large rolling pin, he settled himself at the kitchen table to watch. "Would you like some tea dear one?" She asked without taking her eyes off her masterpiece.

"I would love some," Lukas replied with a small smile and watched as with a wave of her wand she put the kettle on to boil. "What are you making?" Lukas asked curiously, eyeing the round cookie cutters on the counter beside her.

"Jam tarts," She replied, "They're always so popular at our book club. I do wish you'd come with me one night Lukas, it's not all old witches you know."

"I know mum," Lukas said with a chuckle, this was a conversation that they had had before. Book clubs however were not his thing, he was far too opinionated for them as he became rather impassioned when it came to his literature. "I might not be around to go to them mum," he began nervously, "I've been invited to London to speak at that Arithmancy seminar."

Claire froze at the mention of the seminar, she knew it well Ceasing in rolling out the pastry and turning to face her son, rolling pin in hand and looking rather menacing with it. "London?" she queried just to be sure, "Isn't that the same seminar that…"

"Yes mum, it is, but…"

"No," Claire said at once with finality. "You're asking for trouble by going there, no."

"The organisers asked me to go mum, they specifically invited me after reading my paper that was published last month. It's a great honour!" Lukas tried to argue but his mother was a strong willed woman.

"You never should have sent your paper off to that publication," Claire scolded, "I knew something like this would happen. How many times have I told you? Keep your head down and don't get noticed. Not in your … the way you are."

Lukas at his mother with confusion and hurt at her words, "Mum… are you ashamed of me?"

"No dear one, not of you or the handsome young man you've grown into. It's the wolf that you turn into once a month that I am ashamed of."

Lukas was horrified, it had been thirteen years since he had been bitten, he had adjusted to it. He had only been five, he couldn't remember a time when he hadn't been a werewolf. It was simply part of who he was and he had thought that his mother would have accepted and understood that. Even though they had never discussed it that was the assumption he had always had because she had chosen him over his father.

"How can you think like that? The wolf is just as much a part of me now as my love of tea."

Claire looked at her son with something akin to disappointment in her eyes, "It isn't natural Lukas, what you go through each month, becoming that monster… it's not right."

"It's natural to me mum," Lukas said, trying to explain it to her. However he knew that it would be near enough impossible to make her understand how he felt on the matter.

"Don't be so silly Lukas," she said dismissively, turning back to her pastry and rolling it out a little more vigorously than before.

"I'm not being silly mum," Lukas said firmly with determination, "I will be going to the seminar! It's an honour to be invited to go, let alone to speak there. I can't turn them down, I won't," he insisted.

"I'm not arguing with you about this Lukas, you won't be going and that is my final word on that matter," she said, refusing to turn to look at her son.

"You seem to be under the impression that you can stop me," Lukas said, taking a firm stand. "I'm not a dangerous beast and I don't run wild during my transformations. I have never bitten or killed anyone!"

"You think that that will matter? You're a werewolf and that is all that they'll care about," Claire said pointedly, turning back to glare at her son now. She only wanted to protect him from the world.

"I can't hide away from the world indefinitely mum, I need to live my life." Lukas pleaded with her but he could see that he was fighting a losing battle as she shook her head.

"I'm sorry Lukas but if you go to London then I don't want you back in this house again."

Lukas looked to his mother in shock, not realising that she felt so passionate about the matter to give him an ultimatum. "Fine," he said, turning on his heel and leaving the room as the kettle began to whistle, signalling that it had boiled.

When Lukas Faris left for London to achieve his dreams he left his house key on the hallway table. He left a note with a single word scribbled on it for her to find when she woke up. He had simply told her goodbye. True to his word he never attempted to go back to his childhood home and they shared no further correspondence.


	8. The Big Bang

The Big Bang

Part of the Fragmented Soul World

In this scene Harry and Clay get up to more of their antics.

June 1992

Damon had been summoned to see Fenrir, who was demanding updates on the boy he had sent Damon and Clayton to watch over more frequently of late. It was an unavoidable trip and he didn't really want to take Clayton with him for this rather impromptu meeting. The poor boy was terrified of the Alpha wolf and was always a distraction when they were trying to talk. He was just a little bit too young to understand the details and they couldn't risk him telling Harry anything.

He felt so guilty asking Severus to look after Clayton though, but he really had no other choice. It wasn't just Clay's fear of the Alpha that meant he couldn't go; both Damon and Fenrir had agreed early on that he wouldn't see the territory until Harry did when they turned sixteen and were brought into the pack. The Alpha couldn't leave the territory currently and had asked for Damon to meet him there.

"You know I wouldn't ask if I had any other choice," Damon said, having just informed the other man that he needed to work. It was only a half-truth he supposed. He already kept so many secrets from the potions master; he wished he didn't have to, he had great respect and affection for the man, after all.

Severus sighed, "I have to work too, Damon. If the boys are here they won't be supervised," he warned. They both knew all too well what that could mean and Damon winced.

"It would only be for about three hours, four at most," Damon said, pleading desperately; he couldn't let his Alpha down.

"I'm not so sure about this," Severus said with reluctance. "Those two are…"

"I know and I wouldn't ask unless I was desperate."

"Please, Dad!" Harry said, suddenly rushing into the room, his eyes wide and pleading. Severus couldn't help but roll his eyes in exasperation, he should have known that the moment Damon set foot in the house Harry would have been eavesdropping.

"Harry…" Severus began tirelessly as his son looked up at him with those beautiful green eyes that he could never resist. "I have to work," he tried to explain.

It wasn't that he didn't love Clay because he did, in a way. The boy was his son's best friend, after all, however the two of them only seemed to cause havoc when together. Individually the boys were no problem and could easily occupy themselves without worry, however when combined together the results were often rather explosive and had frequently required memories to be modified.

"Please, Dad, please, we'll be on our best behaviour!" Harry begged and Severus gave out a final sigh, looking to Damon would couldn't help but be a little amused.

"I'll believe that when I see it," the potions master said sternly, giving his young son a reproachful look. Harry just blinked up at him with an innocent expression. "Oh alright, he can stay with us," Severus agreed, though he didn't look exactly enthusiastic about the prospect; Damon knew better than to take that personally, as he would likely have felt similarly if left with both boys. "But I expect the two of you to behave," he warned.

Harry literally jumped for joy, hugging his Dad. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," he said before charging off to his room.

"I'll go and fetch him," Damon said, unable to hold back his smile, "Thank you for this Severus, it means a lot that you'd do this."

"Yes, well, if they cause any trouble I expect you to be the one to modify the memories this time," Severus said, wondering what he had let himself in for this afternoon.

As warned, the two boys were left unsupervised and that afternoon they shut themselves away in Harry's room, where they decided to play with the muggle chemistry set, that Severus had brought home to entertain his son while he had to work without interruption. Of course, the two boys were not exactly following the instructions that had been provided and neither of them could have told you whose idea it had been to try including magic. Either way, they hoped that adding a few sparks from their wands would help them in their quest to make some rather potent stink bombs.

Severus, like he had told Damon, had work to complete and therefore had taken up residence in the basement of their home, where he had his potions room. It allowed him the silence and space to brew anything that was required of him for his job and, perhaps more importantly, it also kept Harry away from the more volatile and dangerous ingredients that he had to keep on hand. There were also ingredients down here that were highly poisonous to werewolves, so he had to be extra careful when Harry came down to use his cage on the full moons. He would never knowingly put his son in danger.

He was just about to add the Billywig sting to the awakening potion he was working on for one of his more lucrative business associates when the very foundations of the house began to shake rather violently. This was quickly followed by the loudest explosion that Severus had ever heard. He instantly dropped everything that he was doing, shaking his head to try and clear the ringing from his ears as he called out hysterically for his son.

Fear and adrenaline were spreading through his body. He called out for Harry again, his hearing starting to return as he charged up the stairs and through the house to where Harry and Clayton were supposed to have been entertaining themselves. He had feared the worst and so, when he managed to make out the sound of giggling, his panic was eased a little; the boys were alive, and probably not even hurt, that was the main thing.

Even so, the giggling, which he could hear more clearly as he rapidly approached Harry's bedroom, didn't completely relieve his worry; nor did the foul odour that assaulted his nostrils as he got closer to the giggling twelve year olds. He burst into his son's bedroom and found the two young teens rolling around on the floor in the midst of uncontrollable laughter. One wall of the room had completely gone.

"What is going on in here, what have you done?" Severus yelled making the two boys cease their manic laughter and turn to look at him, having been startled at the sudden appearance of the older man.

The potions master glared in disapproval at the two young boys; their faces had been discoloured to black from, what Severus could only assume was, soot and dust from whatever it was that they'd been playing with to cause the explosion. Their clothes were torn and dirtied too, probably beyond salvageable, but Harry and Clay seemed to luckily only have suffered very minor injuries that could be easily healed.

The teenagers scrambled to their feet attempting to look at least a little bit ashamed. However, when they risked a subtle glance at one another, catching each other's eyes, they couldn't hold it back and resumed their giggling. Severus sighed in annoyance and exasperation, thankful that at least neither of them were hurt as he surveyed what damage had been done.

"I don't… how did the two of you even manage this?" Severus asked upon realising that the wall hadn't just suffered a vanishing charm or anything as simple as that but had literally been blasted away. He could see bricks and wood scattered across the ground below. This was going to take a hell of a lot of tidying up.

The two teenagers looked to one another again, hardly containing their laughter, "We were only playing with the chemistry set you gave me, Dad," Harry said a little too innocently for Severus' liking making him believe that it wasn't exactly as simple as that.

Severus turned on his son, looking at him dubiously. "A muggle chemistry set wouldn't do this," the potions master said, motioning at the absent wall, "I don't even know how you managed to achieve this… catastrophe."

"It was Clay's idea," Harry mumbled.

"Hey!" Clay protested, "It was not." He gave his friend a sharp elbow to the ribs to show just how much he appreciated Harry pointing the figure at him, Harry however only sniggered, knowing full well that his Dad would never believe that one was to blame more than the other.

"Was too," Harry returned a little louder.

"Enough," Severus snapped, not wanting the twelve year olds to sink to such a toddler level of arguing. He was in no mood to deal with the toing and froing between the two; they were quite clearly just trying to distract him from the matter at hand. "You two had better start cleaning up this mess, I need to go and do some damage control."

"Damage control, Dad?" Harry asked, curiously.

"Yes, Harry Prince, damage control," Severus said trying to keep his patience intact, "because I can see part of our chimney on the neighbour's roof."

At this declaration the young boys couldn't contain themselves any longer and burst into hysterics again, almost unable to keep themselves standing upright they were laughing so hard. "Cool!" Clay exclaimed as he spotted what Severus had meant.

"No, Clayton, it is not 'cool' and don't think I won't be telling your father about this when he comes to pick you up!" That was enough to wipe the smile of Clay's face at once. He could only imagine what Damon was going to say about the matter.

"You're going to tell my Dad?" Clay asked nervously.

"Of course," Severus snapped at him, "Damon and I agreed, upon yours and Harry's first misadventure, that anything that involved body modifications or destruction of property were to be reported. I think this definitely counts as destruction of property."

"Dad… when you say body modification…" Harry began but was swiftly cut off by a glare from his father.

"Harry Prince, if you dare finish that sentence you will be grounded for a month!"


	9. Mummy

Fragmented Soul: The Fluffy Bits

Mummy

A Severus and Harry snippet

December 1984

"Daddy?" Harry asked, looking up at his father with large, innocent, green eyes. "Who's that lady?" he questioned, pointing at the photograph of a red headed woman holding a small, smiling baby in her arms.

It was a picture that took pride of place in the centre of their mantel piece; it was also one of the only pictures Severus had of the love of his life, his most beloved friend, and Harry's mother. He had had it framed as soon as he could, wanting to protect it; Harry would have little enough to remember his mother by without the picture becoming damaged too.

"That, my beautiful boy, is your Mummy," Severus said, scooping up the four year old into his strong arms to give his son a cuddle. He fetched the photograph from its position on the mantelpiece before settling them down on the sofa together, almost accidentally squashing Baloo bear in the process.

"Mine," the small boy said, stretching out his arms to accept his favourite cuddly toy, before father and son took a closer look at the picture. "Is that me?" Harry asked, jabbing a little finger at the glass, pointing to where his younger self sat in Lily's arms, grinning and sucking on his fingers quite happily. Lily was smiling her beautiful smile, full of life and beauty; this was how Severus wanted Harry to remember his mother, happy, carefree and perfect.

The four year old had a curious expression on his face when he looked up at his Daddy, cuddling Baloo to him as he waited, expectantly, for an answer. Severus smiled fondly at the little boy as Harry began sucking on one of Baloo bear's paws, something he seemed to find comfort in.

"Yes," Severus said, placing a soft kiss to the unruly mass of raven hair that sat atop his young son's head. "She loved you very much, little one." He never wanted Harry to doubt that; Severus was happy to take Potter's place as Harry's father but he would never let anyone replace Lily.

"Where is Mummy?" Harry asked innocently and Severus sighed; he knew that this difficult day would come but he hadn't thought that it would come this soon. Harry was a smart boy, the signs of accidental wandless magic were astonishing but for him to ask about Lily was something he hadn't expected for at least a little while longer yet, though he supposed he had been asking for trouble displaying her photograph the way he did. He just didn't want either of them to forget her.

"Mummy is in heaven," Severus tried to explain, not really sure what to tell him. "She's being looked after by angels now." There were still occasional moments like this one where he felt completely out of his depth with being a father to little Harry; of course, the little boy was completely worth it all. He knew that there would likely always be times when he felt as if he were drowning, but most of the time he could just float and he took comfort in that.

"Can we go and visit Mummy?" Harry asked.

He was looking at his dad with eyes that made Severus' heart melt every time he looked into them. They really were so like the ones that he could see in the picture of his darling Lily, and yet at some point he had definitely stopped thinking of those beautiful eye's as hers and began to think of them as Harry's.

"No, Harry, we can't" Severus said sadly, wishing that it were possible but there was no spell to bring back the dead, he only wished that there were. "But she never leaves us, she watches over you and protects you and you'll always have me, I'm not going to go anywhere."

"Love you, Daddy," Harry said as he snuggled into his Dad, Baloo bear still cuddled in his arms, the paw shoved back into his mouth to be chewed at and sucked on.

Severus tucked his arms tighter around the little body, holding him close. "Love you too, little one," the older man said softly placing another light kiss upon the top of his son's head.

Harry seemed completely unfazed by the conversation about his mother, but Severus, despite himself, felt emotionally drained. He wondered vaguely if he would always miss her as much as he did now, because the years since her death had done nothing to ease his pain. Perhaps it was better that Harry had been too young to remember what he had lost, for he would never wish this heartache upon the little boy in his arms.


	10. Modifications

**Fragmented Soul: The Fluffy Bits**

**This is a gift to our most loyal readers who review everything we post. (You know who you are)**

**Modifications**

Harry and Clayton mischief making.

November 1991

"You installed a pool table in your basement," Severus stated dryly, looking at Damon with scepticism.

"I saw Harry playing at that youth club the boys like to disappear off to. When I went to pick them up I saw that they were playing the other kids for cash," Damon said, sounding a little unhappy, though perhaps slightly impressed by the initiative of it too.

"Hmmm" Severus hummed with disapproval, "I did wonder where he got that extra money from."

"Yes, well, it appears that he has rather a talent for it," Damon said, "I thought we might let the boys have some fun."

"By all means," Severus said in amusement, as Damon smiled at him. He moved from the kitchen where they'd been stood talking, into the hallway where he called to the boys from the bottom of the stairs, Severus following just behind him.

The two teenagers had been suspiciously quiet in Harry's bedroom. Whenever the two of them went silent it was usually time to worry because it meant that they were up to something. Low and behold, when Harry and Clay came down the stairs, into sight of their waiting parents, both of them were looking a little sheepish.

Clayton now looked like a reject from the Mr Blobby show, his skin bright pink and covered in yellow polka dots. Harry on the other hand was looking more like a fish than a ten year old boy, seeing as his skin was now covered in neon blue scales.

"Do I want to know?" Damon asked with an amused look between the pair of them.

"I hope those scales aren't permanent," Severus commented.

"How many times have we told you, no body modifications!" Damon said looking between the two sulky looking teens, wanting one of them to come up with an explanation as to why or how.

"Clay wanted to get his nipple pierced and I said I wouldn't do it for him!" Harry suddenly shouted.

"Yeah, well, Harry wanted to get a pink pygmy puff tattoo on his hip!" Clay shouted right back at him.

"Least I don't look like Mr Blobby!"

"Least I'm not a mermaid!"

"ENOUGH!" Severus shouted, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, already starting to get a headache.

"You wanted to get what pierced?" Damon asked looking at his son incredulously. "Please tell me you didn't succeed?" He had no idea what affect such a piercing would have during his transformation but he truthfully didn't want to know.

"Harry Prince, if you have a tattoo…" Severus scowled.

Harry pushed the waistband of his jeans down a little, exposing his hip where, beneath the blue scales everyone could clearly see a bright pink pygmy puff. At the same time Clayton lifted up his t-shirt exposing the nipple that had a gold nipple ring hanging from it. His entire upper torso was electric pink with yellow polka dots and was quite a remarkable sight.

"I think I used the wrong spell the first time," Clay said conversationally, while Damon stared at him; apparently both parents had been shocked momentarily into silence. "That one turned me all pink, but the second try did the piercing perfectly. Did the irremovable charm perfectly and everything," he added proudly. "Though it was Harry who added the yellow spots… I kind of like them."

"They were supposed to be revenge for these scales," Harry said sulkily, though there was a definite twitch of an amused smile on his lips.

"And the tattoo?" Severus questioned, his voice dangerously quiet and his eyes were practically narrowed to slits by this point. Damon looked like he was trying to outdo Harry's fish impression, the way his mouth was opening and closing as he failed to find words.

"It's cute right," Harry said, looking down at it proudly, "Once these scales fade a bit it'll look really pink. Not sure they'll go away completely, Clay's getting far too good at that irremovable charm."

"CLAYTON DANES, tell me you DIDN'T cast that irremovable charm on Harry's scales," Damon yelled, and then he had to stop himself from laughing, because that was SO not a sentence he ever thought he would have to say. Though he did wonder what the Alpha might say seeing the boy he'd charged Damon to watch over suddenly becoming part fish.

"I was aiming for the tattoo," Clay said in defence.

"But that tattoo is UNDER the scales!" Damon said.

"Ohhh..." Clayton said, with the tone of sudden realisation, "so that's why it didn't work the first time."

"We really should have figured that out," Harry said with a wry smile at his best friend.

"I hope you realise that you're both in serious trouble!" Severus said coldly. "You'll never be able to go out in public again if we can't undo whatever you've done!"

Harry and Clay exchanged looks of amusement, grinning at each other with wild excitement in their eyes.

"What are you two looking so happy about? We just told you that you were going to be punished," Damon said with confusion. He was half worried the two of them had something else up their sleeves.

"Shall we put them out of their misery?" Harry asked, withdrawing his wand.

"Let's," Clay returned, drawing his wand as well and both aim at each other.

"No," Severus cried out, thinking they were about to add to the mess they had already made.

"What the…" Damon began as the two boys shouted 'finite incantatem' at one another.

The two fathers were once again completely speechless as their sons stood before them looking every bit the normal human boys that they had that morning. They had tricked them; Harry and Clay had actually had them believing their little story.

"Home, now, Clayton," Damon said firmly, only feeling more aggravated by how amused the two young boys seemed to be.

"Perhaps we can join you," Severus suggested with a devious smile upon his lips, which made Harry decidedly nervous.

"Dad?" Harry questioned hesitantly. He had just pulled a big prank and had their Dads seriously worried, he knew he was in trouble, but being invited to go over to Clay's house didn't really sound like a punishment; he just couldn't figure out what his Dad was up to and that probably didn't bode well for him.

"Damon just purchased a pool table," Severus told his son.

"REALLY?" Harry and Clay asked together, with matching excited grins.

"Really…" Damon said dryly, looking at Severus with curiosity. He certainly hadn't planned to let either of the boys in on that yet, not after the stunt they'd just pulled.

"Oh yes, and I thought Damon and I might learn to play this evening," Severus suggested.

"Oh…" Damon said, a smile now twitching on his lips. "What an excellent idea."

"But the boys… clearly they can't be trusted unsupervised," Severus said with mock sadness.

"That's okay," Damon told him, with a wide victorious grin. "I have a rather large store cupboard right next to the room with the pool table. I am sure Harry and Clayton would LOVE to help me sort out the mess in there. Wouldn't you, boys?"

Harry looked horrified, "you want us to tidy a cupboard while you play pool?" he asked.

"Did you think you would go unpunished, Harry?" Severus asked, his eyebrows raised, daring his son to challenge him on it.

"Punished, of course, but that is like torture or something, Dad?" Harry said dramatically. "You're so evil," he added crossing his arms over his chest and pouting.

"Funnily enough, you are not the first person to tell me that, but I am glad to hear I have not lost my touch," Severus told his son with a mildly amused smile.

"I want to know who told him that before," Clay muttered irritably.

"You'll never find out, Clayton, they didn't survive their punishment," Severus said pointedly to Clay. Harry rolled his eyes, his Dad liked to believe he was scary with his brooding moods but Harry knew just how much of a teddy bear he was really.

"I think we are going to have to add body modifications to things that we have to tell each other about," Damon told Severus, as he frowned at his son.

"Agreed, I think we both need to be kept informed with regards to anything involving body modifications, as well as destruction of property," Severus said dryly; a glare quickly silenced the giggle he heard start to escape from Harry's lips.

FGHP

It had taken a little while to get shoes and coats on the two grumbling and complaining boys. Eventually Damon had told them that every minute they wasted was another day that they would go without being allowed near the pool table, and that had sped up the process considerably.

As it was the boys had been shown to the store cupboard and then Damon had started to teach Severus how to play pool. It was not a game he had ever had a reason or opportunity to play before and, while he didn't object to it particularly, he did not believe it would be an activity he would be partaking in on a regular basis. Damon, however, seemed to be taking great joy in teaching Severus something new.

They had to remember to regularly check on the two boys, who seemed to actually be doing rather a good job of sorting Damon's nightmare of a storage room, into some semblance of order; though both boys were wearing rather sour expressions.

"But we've done so much, Dad," Harry complained, when Severus came to check on them, letting his arms flop dramatically to his sides as though this would prove how exhausted he was.

"Then it won't take you long to finish," Severus stated, before returning the pool room to try and at least beat Damon once. The other man was annoying good at the game and Severus was starting to wonder if Damon was discretely casting charms to knock some of the balls in.

"Your Dad really is evil," Clay stated, dropping himself down to sit on one of the numerous storage boxes. "I mean, we have got to have been doing this for like… Ten HOURS," he exclaimed.

"Try two," Harry shot back after casting a spell to tell him the time, "but I agree. I am sooooooo bored," he told his best friend as he sat on one of the other boxes and leaned against the wall.

"Me too," Clay agreed, glaring at the pile of things they still had to sort onto shelves; Severus was right though, they really were almost done.

Suddenly there was a creaking sound and then a crunch as Harry half disappeared into the box he was sitting on. Clay nearly wet himself as he burst out laughing at the sight of his friend's limbs sticking out of the top of the large box.

"A little help please, Clay?" Harry asked, wiggling his arms and legs about in an attempt to free himself, but Clay just laughed even harder.

"What are you…?" Damon asked as he hurried into the room, having heard the loud noise from the room next door. He paused mid-sentence as he saw Clay, who was barely able to breathe from laughing so hard, and turned to see Harry, who was most definitely stuck in the one of the storage boxes.

"Harry Prince," Severus with an exasperated sigh, as he came into the room and went to pull his son out of the box, "why is it that everything always seems to happen to you?"

"I didn't exactly do it on purpose, Dad!" Harry grumbled as he was pulled out of the box.

As his Dad set him back on his feet he reached behind himself and pulled off a piece of paper that had been stuck to his back. It seemed to be a picture of three children, two young boys and an even younger girl, by the looks of it. They were all a little on the skinny side and younger than he and Clay were, and Harry thought that their clothes looked scruffy and ill-fitting.

Clay seemed to have mostly recovered from his laughing fit and hurried over to Harry's side to see what he was looking at. "Is this you, Dad?" he asked, jabbing a finger at the smaller of the two boys in the picture.

Damon peered into the box that Harry had just been removed from and nearly cursed when he realised which one it was. It contained pretty much everything he had from his childhood and enough things that could raise some very unwelcome questions, but Clay had seen pictures of him when he was younger before and so it wasn't overly surprising that his son had recognised him in the picture, though this was the oldest photo he had.

Moving over to where Harry, Clay and now Severus were peering at the picture, he smiled as he remembered that day. One of the other kids at the orphanage had found an old camera and had wanted to test it out, none of them had been really in the mood for it, and Fenrir had sulked something fierce, but Callie had talked them into agreeing.

"Yeah, that's me, Clayton," Damon agreed, taking the picture from his son.

"Who are the other two people?" Harry asked curiously, peering over Damon's arm to have another look, taking in the younger face of Damon, the too large clothes that were dirty and all three of the children in the picture looked a little tired with dark circles under their eyes.

"My younger sister and my best friend," Damon told him simply, slipping the picture into his back pocket carefully. "That was a very long time ago, Harry. Now..." he said, looking around the little room. He was actually rather impressed with what the two boys had managed, not to mention he was keen to get them out of there and put a stop to the questions before they could really get started. "... I think the two of you have probably done enough to earn one game of pool before dinner."

"REALLY?" Harry and Clay exclaimed with disbelief. Harry had honestly been wondering if his Dad was ever going to let him play after the prank they had pulled earlier.

"Yes, really," Damon said, glad that the boys had taken the bait, "Come on Harry, show us your skills."

When he had seen the photograph of himself, Callie and Fenrir from their childhood he had panicked; it could have ruined everything if Severus recognised Fenrir; as far as werewolves go his friend was pretty infamous after all. Thankfully, though, the man everyone would recognise now was a far cry from the scrawny boy in the picture.

"Ghosts from the past?" Severus asked Damon, as their sons rushed out of the storeroom to go set up and play a game of pool.

He had noticed the expression on Damon's face that spoke of a strong reluctance to discuss the photograph. Severus had often wondered about the other man's past but the two of them seemed to have some unspoken agreement not to ask too many questions about such things, and given how well that worked for him and Harry, he wasn't not going to push the issue.

"Something like that," Damon said, with a reassuring smile and a pat to Severus' shoulder. "We better go check on the boys, before they blow up the pool table… or my basement… or each other," he added with a look of worry, leading the way towards Harry and Clayton's excited shouts.


	11. Challenge

Fragmented Soul: The Fluffy Bits

Challenge

June 1986

"I challenge you!" Reid bellowed, attracting the attention of the whole pack as he squared up to his Alpha.

Tristan, the pack Alpha, was a head taller than him and a pure mass of solid muscle. Not that Reid wasn't; he was certainly an impressive man but his delusions of grandeur had grown to the extent that this was the inevitable step. The current Alpha had not been challenged in a decade and very few had been unhappy with his leadership but Reid believed that he deserved to be more than he was. He wanted the top positioning.

With the challenge issued, Tristan finally had the excuse he needed to rid his pack of the trouble maker. He had wanted to take Reid down a peg or two for years but the now twenty year old male had not given him good enough reason to do so. Tristan was sorry that it had come to this but he wasn't sorry that it would soon be over. It was such a shame that Reid's supporters would have to die as well but their pack would still be strong without them. Reid had been causing problems for far too long now and the Alpha couldn't ignore a direct challenge like this.

Watching the exchange between the two dominant males on Reid's side were the handful of supporters that Reid had gathered to his cause plus his parents and baby brother, Micha. Neither of his parents had wanted Reid to take this path, they had tried to dissuade him from it but to no avail; they knew that it was bound to end in disaster but as their eldest son they would support him, even if it meant their deaths too and at this point there was no backing down from it.

Behind his mother, sixteen year old Micha cowered, watching his big brother fearfully, horrified about what was going to happen next. He had always been the baby of the family and treated as such, mollycoddled and protected by his mother, who had known that he would never be in the same league as his big brother or the Alpha.

Micha was special, he was submissive and she loved her delicate little boy who had needed her so much more than her eldest had. Reid had been trained and taught to hunt and fight by their father since he could walk, but not Micha. He was kept safely away from such things; he was no smaller than a boy of his age without lycanthropy would be but that was still small for a werewolf.

The eldest of her two sons was a large, strong dominant wolf, one that the boys' father was extremely proud of; Reid had been taught all that he needed to survive. His ego had been primped and fluffed all his life and this was the result of that; it was a challenge that should never have been issued and a fight that could have been avoided.

Reid was ready to fight as faced the Alpha with determination, strength and not a tremor of fear, but even the thought of battle scared the teenage Micha. His body trembled as he looked upon the reality of it; he watched his big brother square up to the Alpha, a man whom he had been taught to respect and obey his entire life, was nothing short of terrifying. He knew that if, the Alpha, Tristan won this fight then his brother would be dead, and vice versa too. Both of them were men he had known his entire life and he was sure that he didn't wanted to lose either of them tonight; however he understood that now the challenge had been issued there was no going back; they couldn't both survive; one of them would die.

"Mum, what's going to happen?" Micha asked, his voice wavering a little as Reid and Tristan leapt for each other, fists flying, claws out and teeth bared. He couldn't watch and turned his wide eyes to look at his mother; her sandy blonde hair and purple eyes both matched his own, as did the fear they showed.

"I don't know sweet boy," she said; her voice was soft but Micha could hear the fear in her tone as much as he could see it on her face.

It was almost as if she knew that her eldest son was going to die and she knew that there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. She brought her younger boy into her arms and held him there, shielding him from the violence while watching it with a keen eye herself. If she was going to lose her eldest child tonight then she wanted to watch.

Though Micha couldn't see what was happening, he could hear everything; the vicious blows being struck and the pack around them shouting and yelling, calling out their support and anger, but this was a fight just for Reid and the Alpha. The two of them would receive no backup or assistance; no one could intervene without punishment, it had to be a fair, one on one fight. Whoever won would be the Alpha male and anyone who dared to question it would be killed.

"Stop coddling the boy," Micha's father hissed beside them but his words only made her draw her arms around her youngest boy tighter.

Micha clung to his mother, thankful that he couldn't see the brutality of the fight between two men that he cared for a great deal, however his mother's protective arms could never have stopped the sounds nor the smell of blood as it was spilt. Micha buried his nose into his mother, inhaling her floral scent, committing it to memory. He had a bad feeling about how this was going to end and he never wanted to forget; tears were threatening to fall but he wanted to prove himself and stay strong for his mother.

Her heart nearly broke in two as Reid fell to the floor, his lip bleeding, his right eye almost swollen shut. Her eldest son was going to die; she didn't doubt that and in that moment she knew it was going to go bad for the rest of them too. She pushed Micha away from her, taking his head into her hands, ensuring that she met his eyes.

"Survive, sweet boy, you must survive," she said simply, it was the only thing she had left to hope for and there was nothing she could do to help him.

Not knowing what else to do Micha nodded his head and she placed a soft kiss upon his forehead and told him that she loved him. "Mum?" Micha questioned, tears welling up in his eyes as she pushed him backwards such that he fell to the floor; she wouldn't have him in the path of the inevitable attack on her.

The scent of blood was overwhelming now that he was away from his mother and he knew that it was his brother's blood that filled their home. Reid had lost the fight and, as that knowledge sunk in, tears start to stream down his cheeks, blurring the horrifying images of the home he had known and loved his whole life. He scrambled backwards until his back hit the trunk of a tree, where he curled up, hiding his head against his knees not wanting to see any more.

He heard a horrified scream that made his blood run cold. His eyes snapped up to see his mother kneeling upon the ground; her hands were covering her mouth and her eyes were fixed on the lifeless body of her mate. Micha didn't even have a moment to shout out a warning as the Beta wolf of their pack, Jared, came up behind her, his hands gripping on either side of her head and twisting.

Unable to make a sound, Micha struggled for breath as his mother's body fell to the ground, lifeless and limp. It felt as if his chest was constricting as he struggled to pull air into his lungs; his body was trembling as he saw the Beta turn and start approaching him too. In that moment he didn't think that he was going to last longer than the next few minutes and in that moment he didn't care. His family was dead; he had nothing left. He could accept death, even if it scared him.

Micha had known Jared for his whole life; just like the rest of the wolves in the pack, they had grown up together. Jared was the same age as Reid had been, they had been childhood friends. Micha had always looked up to the both of them even though he had never been allowed to play with them; he remembered tearfully with a tight pain in his chest how his mother had always said that they were too boisterous.

If only she had known that Jared would grow up to be her murderer; the thought tore a heart wrenching sob from his throat. He couldn't believe that his parents were dead, even with their bodies within sight. He closed his eyes, unable to take anymore, unable to watch as Jared stepped ever closer. Micha understood why the Beta had killed his parents but the pain was too raw for him to accept it and he was glad that his impending death would mean he would never have to.

"Leave him," a familiar voice barked out suddenly, making Micha look up again in surprise.

At the command Jared had stopped his approach. It was Tristan who had given the order, Jared wouldn't have listened to anyone else. Micha couldn't understand why, he should be dead; there was a part of him that really wanted to be dead just so it wouldn't hurt so much anymore. That was how it went, there was no forgiveness or reprieve. His older brother had made a challenge for the position of Alpha wolf, those that had supported him had to die.

It had never been his choice, not really , because he would never have been able to choose between Reid and Tristan, they were both his family and he had never really been offered a choice. However, he had remained by his mother's side, loyal to her above all others because she was the one he had always been closest to in the pack.

"My Alpha…?" Jared queried.

"Look at him, he means no harm," Tristan said, his voice filled with authority and lacking sympathy. Micha wasn't stupid, he could hear that he wasn't going to be allowed to stay here even if he was permitted to live because as the Alpha male of the pack, Tristan couldn't be seen to show weakness. "Let him be exiled, he won't survive the next winter alone, let him go."

Jared smirked, turning from Tristan to look at Micha who could hardly move, he was in so much shock. His family was dead and gone, the word exiled ringing in his ears. "Run, little wolf, run," Jared said, his tone filled with mocking. Micha didn't need to be told twice. Scrambling to his feet, tears still streaming down his cheeks he started to run just as Jared had instructed.

He couldn't look at his old pack as he went; he could never have looked upon those faces that he had known since he was a pup, of people he had grown up with and loved but yet none of them would do anything to stop this. They would do nothing to help him because they would not go against their Alpha. So Micha ran and he didn't look back and he didn't stop running until he knew that he couldn't anymore.

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	12. The Alpha's daughter

Fragmented Soul: The Fluffy Bits

The Alpha's daughter

April 1990

At twenty years old Micha had never really fit in anywhere, not since his exile at just sixteen years old, from the pack he had been born into; the day that his idiotic older brother had challenged the Alpha for dominance had changed everything and cost him all but his life. He had spent the last four years of his life floating from pack to pack, never really belonging, never being trusted and having nothing to call his own.

He hadn't known loneliness until then, but now it was a familiar feeling to Micha; he still frequently missed his mother and the sheltered life he had had back then, and there had been days when he had wished that Tristan had just let Jared kill him, like he had his parents. But he was alive and things had taken a turn for the better when he had come across the Pearson pack.

Micha sat by the fire for warmth, stick in hand as he prodded at the ground, lost in his thoughts; he looked up for a moment at the pack around him. It had only been a couple of weeks since he had been allowed to join them but he found that he actually liked it here; it was certainly a darn sight better than he had been treated in any of the other packs he had come across. As long as he pulled his weight they fed him and permitted him a hide to sleep under plus space close to the fire to keep warm, they had even given him clothes to replace the rags he had been wearing upon arrival.

It was a relatively small pack though and he was the first outsider to be allowed in in a number of years, which didn't bode well for him being allowed to stay on a more permanent basis. With the current climate he was never permitted to stay for long in any of the packs that he had stumbled across; no-one wanted to place too much trust in someone unknown and most of the packs he had come across had chased him away without a second thought.

It tore him apart to know that he wouldn't be able to stay here for long and, for once, that had nothing to do with the pack or where it was located, it had everything to do with the fact that he had foolishly allowed himself to fall in love. He probably fell harder and faster than he should have but she was his first love and he was young, there was no reason or logic, there was only her.

He looked over at the girl who was sat a short distance away from him, laughing infectiously with one of her pack brothers; Micha couldn't help but smile. Lyla was two years younger than him at just eighteen, with the most beautiful long black hair and kind light blue eyes, her skin a pale ghostly white and flawless. She was the most stunning young woman that he had ever seen.

Unfortunately she was also the one and only child of the Pearson pack's Alpha wolf. Henry Pearson, loved and adored his daughter more than anything else in the world; her mother and twin sister had died during the birth and that had only made Henry, her father, all the more protective of his only child; Lyla Pearson had even been named after the mother that had died to give her life.

Despite knowing that she was off limits to him he had still fallen for her. She had caught Micha's eye the moment he walked into the pack; he had been smitten the moment he had seen her sweet smile and in no time at all she had captured his heart with her laugh. The idea that she was the forbidden fruit had only made the desire to be with her more intense; and two weeks later Micha knew that he was doomed, but couldn't even bring himself to care, surely she would be worth it.

FGHP

It had been around three months since he had joined the Pearson pack and he was happy; he knew it was the stupidly smitten kind of happiness that fools in love always bragged about, but Lyla was everything he had hoped and more. Not least because she returned his affections with as much intensity as he felt them.

Their stolen kisses in the far corners of the territory and clandestine meetings were what they had both started living for. It had taken only a few weeks for the two of them to fall in love with one another and, when they had started to make love, it had been the first time for the both of them, making it even more special.

How they had managed to hide their relationship for nearly three months, Micha wasn't even sure; to start with he had been certain that they would be caught at any moment, but the pack seemed to still be oblivious. Henry was suspicious, as was the Beta, Dylan, but he and Lyra had not been caught; if that wasn't the case then Micha was sure he would be dead, or at least not being permitted to stay.

"Micha," Lyla whispered, pulling him from his thoughts as she threaded her fingers with his and reached up to steal a quick kiss from his lips.

"Hi," he whispered back, a goofy smile on his face as she pulled away. "Love you," he told her simply.

Lyla beamed at him. "Love you too," she replied, and the expression on her face told Micha that she was every bit as besotted as he was.

It was a little heart-breaking to see, in truth, because he already knew that it couldn't be forever and he was starting to think that their time together was coming to an end. Lyla's father, Henry, was already suspicious of him and had asked his Beta, Dylan, to watch over Micha closely and it was getting increasingly difficult to sneak away.

The Beta Dylan had been in love with Lyla since they were young pups and he hated Micha with a passion. He would have done anything to see the outsider chased out of the pack or even killed. Dylan had hated it when he had seen how Lyla had been falling for another when he had always been the one who was supposed to end up with her.

Lyla's hands were already busy starting to undress Micha when he heard something, someone. He pressed a finger to her lips to make sure she stayed quiet, the pair of them frozen still. He was already certain who it was even before he caught the Beta wolf's scent on the air and Micha knew then that it was over; now he just wanted to get them both back to the clearing without being seen.

He knew that it was time to leave; there was no doubt that he would be killed for the love he had for Lyla. He never wanted to be parted from her, but he could no longer stay and Micha knew that he would never let her leave her family, not for him.

The worst feeling was that he knew that he wouldn't be able to say goodbye to her. He couldn't risk it, not without her wanting to come with him, and so as he led them back to the clearing as quietly as possible he decided that no matter how much he wanted to stay he would slip away in the dead of night and pray that she could be happy without him.

FGHP

Micha had just ignored the hatred with which Dylan had looked at him upon returning to the clearing a short while after he and Lyla had; it would not matter in a few hours anyway, because he would be long gone. The twenty year old waited only long enough to be sure that everyone was asleep before he gathered the very few possessions he had and left; he felt a twinge of guilt for the small amount of food he stole and wrapped in the hide they had given him, but it would hopefully keep him alive for the next few days.

His heart ached with every step away from Lyla that he took but he knew that it was for the best; she would find love again, she would live a full and beautiful life without him and he would become nothing more than a memory of first love. He would treasure his memories of the dark haired beauty; he would never forget the image of the way she smiled up at him from where she was laying naked on a hide after they had first made love.

And now, as he left her behind the familiar feelings of loneliness and loss started to settle themselves into his heart once more. He would travel far enough and find himself somewhere as safe as possible to sleep alone tonight, then tomorrow he would get up and move on, because what other choice did he have.

"Goodbye, Lyla," he whispered, willing himself to find all the strength he had learned since his exile before he turned and walked away.

FGHP

As morning broke and the Pearson pack began to rouse, it quickly became apparent that Micha was gone. Some of the pack was pleased, others were relieved but there was only one who cried for his loss. Her stomach churning and her heart in tatters, she had had no clue that he had been planning to leave. They had had a couple of narrow escapes where they had almost been caught but leaving… it had never crossed her mind that he might be thinking about it.

It had been a close call the night before, she knew that Dylan had almost caught them and that was why they had returned to the clearing so much sooner than planned, but Micha loved her and she didn't understand why he was gone without a word. There had been no hints or forewarnings; she would have begged him to stay and failing that she would have gone with him.

"Daddy, please, we have to find him," Lyla begged following after her father as he walked across their clearing away from her.

Henry was not going to be persuaded. He had never liked the boy, Micha had been a loose cannon and he was glad to be rid of him, and the way his daughter was already pining and pleading after him did nothing to improve his opinion of young man. He and Dylan had both suspected that something was going on between Micha and Lyla, but he was glad the boy at least had enough sense to leave before being caught. He didn't like the boy but he had had no wish to end his life as he would have likely done if Micha had laid one finger on his little girl.

"No ,Lyla," Henry said firmly, stopping and turning to give his daughter a stern glare. "He didn't belong here, he was right to go."

"You can't say that," she said, tears running down her pale cheeks, panic flaring in her light blue eyes, "I love him."

"Don't be ridiculous…" Henry said.

"He loves me!" she yelled in frustration, desperate to make him realise.

"And that's why he left is it?" Henry pointed out, wanting his daughter to see that the boy was nothing more than trouble. He wouldn't have her pining after some no good lad who was long gone with no intention of looking back.

"He was scared, you would have killed him," she said, angrily brushing away her tears; she was hurt that her own father had played such a part in chasing away the man she loved. Though why she had suspected anything else she didn't know.

"If he loved you so much, why didn't he take you with him?" Dylan asked, resting a hand on her shoulder that she shrugged off. She couldn't stand him anywhere near her, let alone touching her. He had been just as much at fault for Micha leaving as her father had.

She didn't know though, why hadn't he take her with him. She would have gone, she was sure of that; she loved Micha and when the alternative was staying and being pushed into mating with someone else, someone she despised, there was no comparison to where she would most want to be, especially knowing what she knew, what she had never found the chance to tell Micha. Lyla let out a pained sob of despair, her hand pressed to her belly as she crouched down wanting to just curl up and cry.

Henry's eyes went wide as his eighteen year old daughter's hand came to rest upon her abdomen. "No…" he said with disbelief and a flare of anger. For the first time that morning he wished that Micha was still there, just so he could kill the boy for doing such a thing to his daughter.

"Daddy, please," Lyla begged, turning her tear stained face to look up at him pleadingly.

"You'll get rid of it," Henry stated, ensuring she knew that there was no room for negotiation. Dylan was still staring at the eighteen year old in shock at the revelation. It hadn't taken him long to figure out what was going on when he saw where her hand had come to rest. The thought that she had let Micha touch her like that sickened him, Lyla was supposed to be his!

"No," Lyla said firmly, getting to her feet and backing away from the two men.

"You'll get rid of it or leave," Henry told her, his voice deadly and quiet. That little shit, Micha, had been given a home in their pack; they had trusted him and THIS was how the boy repaid their kindness? And Lyla, his little girl, his only child, he had defiled her. He couldn't help but wonder how it had come to this.

"Then I'll leave," Lyla shouted stubbornly, attracting the attention of the rest of the pack.

She didn't meet any of their eyes as she stormed away from her father and the Beta wolf, who was glaring at her furiously, as though she had cheated on him and in his warped mind, she had. However she was determined to protect her unborn child; the only part of Micha she had left, she realised, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. No one was going to make her get rid of it, not even her father.

"Lyla!" Henry yelled angrily after his retreating daughter.

She didn't even react though as she began gathering up her clothing and few belongings. She moved fast, only grabbing things that she needed to survive and keep moving as she knew that she had to go quickly; every moment she wasted Micha's scent was fading and it would be more difficult to follow him. She didn't even know how many hours behind she already was.

"Stop, this instant," the Alpha tried again, but his daughter just turned away from him, grabbing everything she thought she might need, throwing it into the backpack before she slung over her shoulder. "LYLA!"

Finally she stopped, sighed and turned to him. She went up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Bye, Daddy, I will always love you," she whispered before turning away from him and running to the edge of the clearing before he could stop her. His arms reached out to grab at her but she was already gone, the combination of his surprise and shock had made him hesitate just a second too long and she had almost literally slipped through his fingers.

"LYLA!" He shouted after her to no avail. She had her mother's fiery attitude and in his heart of hearts he knew that there was no stopping her.

She heard her father's cry as she ran, but she wouldn't stop, she had to find Micha. Tears filled her eyes, as she desperately followed the clear path he had taken; his footprints in the mud an easy trail to follow, but he was clear to her now that she couldn't follow his scent.

She tried, so very hard, for hours, but her pregnancy hormones were messing up her senses as she realised the trail really had gone cold, that there were no more footprints to follow, and that Micha was lost to her, gone, she fell to her knees. She was alone, so very alone; no pack; no Micha. There was no going back now, her father would never accept her child and there was only one thing that Lyla was sure of now, and that was that their child would live; preferably free and happy.

"Micha!" she called out in a last ditch attempt, before she cried in earnest, her arms wrapped around her still flat belly that contained their unborn child. The baby would be loved and cherished and she would never stop looking for Micha, never.


	13. Lyla

Fragmented Soul: The Furry Bits

Lyla

December 1990

With no other leads left on where to go, Lyla had searched high and low for the pack that Micha had been born into after leaving her own pack behind. She had left her family the morning after Micha had vanished; their unborn baby growing inside of her. She had been so certain that she would find him before the child came to term and was born, sure that the two of them would be parents together. Lyla had held on to this hope and, even though it was now December and her swollen stomach was impeding her search for Micha, she still kept searching.

She had very little to go on. They had lain together and spoken of his past but despite listening intently she had not received a specific location and Micha had been very closed off about much of what had happened in his past, finding it too hard to talk about. All she knew was that his older brother had challenge the Alpha and lost. For this Micha's brother and their parents had been killed but he had been exiled, allowed to go free and live.

It was Lyla's hope that he might have returned to his old pack. It had been four, almost five years since the offence and he had proven himself worthwhile and he had survived despite it being thought that he wouldn't. She thought that he might have returned to them as he was always talking about being in a pack where he truly belonged. He had always struggled to find that and besides she had no other leads and nowhere else to go.

She was eight months into her pregnancy now and she was close to them, she was sure. She could sense that she was on the edge of a claimed territory. Even though her hormones were still affecting her werewolf senses there were some things that you just knew and being on claimed territory was one of them. If she had this wrong and this wasn't Micha's old pack then she and her unborn baby would probably be killed but she ran that risk anyway. There were no certainties any more, not for her.

Stumbling blindly through the darkness and the wilderness she hoped and she prayed that she had found the right place and that they would take her in. She hadn't eaten in days, barely surviving at all. She was fearful for her baby, which she had not felt move in days. It scared her that her inability to provide and care for herself might have hurt the only piece of Micha that she had left. She had done a lot of praying in the past few months despite not knowing who or what would listen to a creature such as her.

Spent and exhausted she had nothing left. When her foot caught on a root and she fell she honestly believed that she would never get up again, twisting her body so to protect her bump as she fell. Sobbing desperately, her long black hair a tangled mess of leaves and twigs, her once flawless, pale skin now covered in dirt and grime as she clutched desperately at her large swollen belly, protectively.

She was so tired and so hungry. She had struggled and fought for so long and felt as if she had gotten nowhere. She had failed, not only herself but her baby as well, not to mention Micha, who would never know about his child or how long and desperately that she had searched for him.

As her vision blurred and unconsciousness threatened to take her she caught the scent of another wolf and her heart lurched. It would mean either her salvation or her destruction and currently she would have asked for nothing more than for her child to be spared and given sanctuary even if her life was forfeit. She would have died happy knowing that her baby lived on.

Just as her body failed her and she blacked out into nothingness she felt strong arms encircle her and lift her from the ground. The scent that encompassed her was not a familiar one but she found it to be a comfort. She accepted the embrace without fuss and allowed her body to give out.

FGHP

"What's going on?" Jared asked as he spied his Alpha male returning to the clearing. They had all smelt the intruder on their lands, heard her as she ran but to see her being carried into their home by their large Alpha male was something else.

"Fetch some supplies," Tristan barked as he lay the heavily pregnant female down close to the fire. The poor girl's clothes were ragged and torn; she was filthy and seemed to be rather underfed, her tiny body looking highly out of proportion with her swollen belly protruding awkwardly.

Tristan Stanwood was not a wolf to be trifled with. Six foot four and a solid mass of muscle; light blond hair that was kept long and tied at the nape of his neck. He was twenty-eight years old and had lived through a challenge to his position in the pack once already. He was respected and feared in equal measure, he had kept his pack safe and they were not about to argue with any command he gave.

"Who is she, my Alpha?" A young girl asked; she sounded fearful, as if the question might warrant punishment but she was looking upon the unconscious werewolf with nothing but curiosity.

"I don't know, Sophia," Tristan said, trying to keep his voice calm, though if he got asked anything more insidious he might not act as kindly. "Go and fetch your mother. We'll need her."

The timid seventeen year old girl nodded; she had been learning her mother's skills for a week or so now but she had no idea where to begin with dealing with the pregnant girl. Her mother had trained at St Mungo's until she had been bitten and forced to leave her post. Apparently Witches and Wizards weren't entirely comfortable with leaving their medical care in the hands of a werewolf, no matter how capable.

As Sophia ran off, Jared returned, carrying in his arms all that they had in the way of medicine and bandages. It wasn't much but then they weren't expecting for anyone to stumble on them, injured or not. He knelt down to the side of the young girl, on the other side of her to Tristan, as the Alpha male started to sniff out any possible injuries on her.

He was glad to see that there were only minor cuts and grazes upon her skin, all of which were slowly starting to heal, though not as fast as they should have been. It seemed that the worst of her problems would be malnutrition and dehydration and that would also be what was preventing her from healing properly as a werewolf should.

"She's one of us," Jared stated simply and Tristan nodded. "Do you know her?"

"No," he replied, another wolf coming to join them. "Jared, back off, give Felicity some space," the Alpha ordered.

Instantly the Beta wolf, Jared did as he was told. However he didn't go far, remaining close by to watch over her; there was something about her that had captured him so completely. Despite her condition, the grime and dirt he could that she was beautiful.

"Dehydrated, severely malnourished, especially in her condition," Felicity said with a sad shake of her head. "She'll be fine but she needs food and water."

Tristan nodded his head and looked to the rest of his pack, beginning to bark out orders; he didn't owe anything to this girl but he wasn't made of stone. If he turned her away or turned a blind eye to her then she and her unborn child would die. She was so young and he was curious as to how such a young and beautiful girl could have ended up alone and pregnant in the world.

FGHP

Lyla blinked her eyes open. It was something that she wasn't expecting to ever do again. She felt warm and relaxed; it was nicer than she had felt in a long while and for a fraction of a second she had thought that she was actually dead and that this was heaven. However that illusion was quickly shattered when she felt her baby kick inside her stomach.

She gasped, her hands moving to her swollen belly in shock. "You're alive," she whispered in complete shock and so grateful that her baby was so strong, stronger than her. Her gasp of shock and whispered words had caught the attention of others and instantly there was a large blonde man and a slight brunette female hovering over her, asking her if she were okay.

"How are you feeling?" The handsome blond man asked her. She looked up at him, feeling completely stupid as nerves overwhelmed her and she failed to find words to answer him.

"My baby," she managed to say, "I thought... I hadn't felt it for days."

"Your baby is fine, perfectly healthy actually, which considering all you've been through is remarkable. You have a strong child there," the brunette said with a smile as she handed Lyla a mug of water to drink.

The mug was accepted gratefully and Lyla took small sips after the large, domineering wolf, whom she figured was the Alpha of the pack, helped her sit up a little. He supported her until he was sure that she was able to do it herself but he still remained close, watching her carefully.

"Just like it's daddy," Lyla said fondly, rubbing her large stomach, affectionately, a soft smile on her face.

"Where is the father?" the obviously Alpha male asked and at the question Lyla flushed, unable to meet their gaze as she took another sip of her water. She had to be careful, sure they were helping her now but that might change when they found out that the father of her baby was Micha.

"I was looking for him," she mumbled softly.

"He left you?" Tristan growled. If there one thing he hated, it was when men shirked their responsibilities, especially when it came to their children.

"He didn't know," Lyla said, quickly jumping to Micha's defence. "It's complicated but it wasn't his fault, he didn't know."

"I think you need to explain from the beginning," the Alpha wolf said giving Lyla a pointed look and she nodded. It seemed that the petite brunette would be staying for the explanation as she began to cast diagnostic spells over her and the baby to check that they were doing okay.

"He left his original pack," She said, be cautious to choose her words carefully until she knew if she had found the right place and the state of play here. "He found us, our pack and we accepted him in. My Dad didn't like him much though and as the Alpha he had the final say; it was because he loved that he had to leave. He didn't know about the baby, he was just trying to protect me."

"And you've been looking for him," The Alpha asked, "To tell him."

Lyla nodded, "He'd want this as much as me, I just don't know where he is, I was trying to find his original pack, I thought he might have come back," she said and knew she sounded utterly hopeless and a little pathetic.

"So what are you doing here?" the Alpha asked suspiciously before it dawned on him. He wasn't exactly stupid and it had made him wonder why she was here, so close to their territory. "You think we are his original pack," hesitantly, Lyla nodded. "What was this wolfs name?"

"Micha," Lyla said with trepidation, watching the Alpha wolf carefully. The brunette who had been tending to her wounds made a sudden intake of breath in shock. Lyla's eyes switched to her instantly, however if she had remained looking at the Alpha male then she would have seen the shock mixed with relief on his face.

Tristan couldn't have been more grateful for anything in his life. The guilt he had felt at being forced to send Micha away when he had done nothing wrong. He had liked the boy, more than that. It had killed him to exile him but he couldn't be seen as weak and if Micha had stayed then he would have been killed. This way he was at least alive and now they had his unborn child here and Tristan knew what he was going to do.

"You can stay with us," the Alpha said at once, his decision made and final, no one would go against him.

"I can?" Lyla asked in shock. She was relieved that she had found his pack, but it was also obvious that Micha was not here with them, otherwise she was sure he would have been at her side. But neither her, nor her baby, were dead, and it seemed that they were going to let her stay.

"Yes," he said. "My name is Tristan; this is my Beta, Jared and the woman tending to you is Felicity. We're Micha's old pack, but he isn't here, we haven't seen him in years" the Alpha told her sadly, confirming what she already knew. "What's your name?"

"Lyla."


	14. First Flight

Fragmented Soul: The Fluffy Bits

First Flight

March 1991

Harry was bouncing from foot to foot with pent up excitement; he was feeling extremely pleased with himself right now and near enough nothing his Dad was telling him was sticking in his mind. He was too anxious to go and find his best friend.

Severus had been so proud the moment his son had achieved the transformation; they hadn't even been sure that it would ever be possible considering that Harry was already two-natured but Severus was determined to give his son every advantage in life that he could.

Of course, like every ten year old, the first thing Harry had wanted to do was show his best friend, something that his Dad had strictly forbidden. There were some things that he didn't mind the two boys sharing and talking about, he actually thought it was healthy for them to have each other. However, this was where he was drawing the line. Particularly while Harry was so inexperienced with his other form and the transformation process.

"You are not to try transforming without me present," his Dad had told him firmly. This was one of those things that had gone in one ear and out of the other, too excited to pay much attention and too eager to show off to actually do as he was told.

Harry had understood to some extent that it was a rule put in place due to his Dad's constant worrying about his safety but he really wanted to show off to Clay about what he could do. His best friend would never actually believe him unless he saw it for himself. He'd do it just the once to prove that he could, his Dad need never know.

"Do you understand me, Harry?" Severus asked as he watched his ten year old pull on his coat, ready to go outside. He had potions to work on, that were more volatile than usual, and Damon had agreed to watch Harry for him for the afternoon and have him sleep over tonight as well.

"Course," Harry replied, grinning. "Love you, Dad," he said, grabbing his backpack off the ground and practically running for the front door, without even a glance over his shoulder.

Severus only just managed to shout out "Love you too, behave yourself," before he heard the front door to their home slam shut. He just had to hope that Harry had listened to him for once in his life.

Even though the winter was coming to an end it was still freezing and Harry had to zip up his jacket as he walked the short distance to his best friend's house. The snow that had fallen through February and early March was now slush and puddles that leaked into his sneakers as he walked.

His wand was strapped to the holster on his forearm, hidden out of sight from muggles but easily accessible if he needed it; of course, while he could use it relatively freely at Clay's house, he would only use it on the street in an emergency. He took comfort in it being there as it meant as soon as he reached his destination he would be able to cast warming and drying charms to rid himself of the numbing sensation taking over his feet.

Luckily it was only a few minutes' walk to get to his best friend's house and he practically ran up the path to the front door, jumping over the largest puddle that blocked his way. He almost fell over once when he skidded, but laughed as he caught himself, crashing into the front door. Well that is one alternative to knocking, Harry thought with a giggle.

"Coming," Damon's voice called out from inside, and a moment later the door was pulled open, revealing his best friend's father. "How on earth did you get so wet walking the two minutes from your house?" the man asked. "It isn't even raining."

"Puddles," Harry said, grinning unrepentantly.

"Of course," Damon said, stepping aside to let Harry into the house, casting warming and drying charms before the young boy even had a chance. "CLAYTON!" he called out.

As Damon shut the door, there was the sound of heavy footfall upstairs, followed by a door swinging open and hitting the wall, and then what could only be a small herd of hippogriffs coming down the stairs.

"Was that thud you knocking, Harry?" Clay asked, as he appeared in the hallway, having jumped the last four steps of the staircase.

Harry laughed. "I slipped, kind of crashed into the front door," he explained.

"Graceful as ever, Harry," Damon commented as he extracted the clearly hyper boy from his coat. Harry had already kicked off his shoes before his second arm was free and both boys took off up the stairs. "Behave," he called after them, knowing it was probably a futile effort, but at least he felt he had tried.

"Yeah," came the muffled response as Clayton's bedroom door was slammed closed. Damon wondered vaguely if he should either insist the door stay open or at the very least confiscate their wands. He did have a few phone calls to make in regards to some of his holdings and he really didn't want to be worrying about what the pre-teens were getting up to.

Deciding against it, he headed for his study. Only this morning he and Clayton had been discussing trust and boundaries, he needed to enforce that. He would trust the two boys to keep their wands, if they broke that trust then he wouldn't make the same mistake again.

"I can do something really cool!" Harry declared the moment the bedroom door was shut. Clayton quickly cast a silencing charm, which Harry had taught him, upon the door; his Dad wouldn't need or want to know what was going on up here.

"What?" Clay asked, Harry's enthusiasm making him excited to hear what it was. He knew that Harry's Dad liked to teach him some pretty cool magic sometimes and, while he would never been into studying quite like Harry was, he was still always excited to see the new things his best friend learned.

"Open the window," Harry instructed. "Go on, just trust me," he said insistently when Clay looked at him like he was crazy.

"It is freezing out there," he pointed out, as he did as Harry asked, undoing the latch. It was, as he said, really very cold as a gust of wind swept into the room. "You don't have a coat even. You better not get pissy with me when you get cold."

"You have heard of a warming charm, right, Clay?" Harry teased.

"Oh shut up and just show me before we freeze to death!" Clayton said, sticking his tongue out at his best friend who laughed at him.

Concentrating really hard, determined to get it right, Harry squeezed his eyes tightly closed and focused all his energies on the transformation. It was harder than usual; he'd been practicing all morning and it had exhausted him but he was determined to show Clay what he could do.

"Merlin's balls," Clay exclaimed in excitement, glad that he had cast the silencing charm on the door. "Wow!"

Perched before him where Harry had just stood was a gorgeous falcon who, as Clay watched, hoped and jumped over to the window, on to the ledge. He didn't even have a chance to stop him before Harry took flight, circling overhead briefly before landing in the tree closest to his bedroom window, transforming back into his teenage self.

"That is awesome!" Clayton said, a wide grin on his face.

"I know, right," Harry called back with glee.

"Now come back so I can shut this damn window, I'm freezing here!"

Harry pinched his eyes shut and tried to focus again, but rather than the wash of magic he expected to feel he just felt dizzy, and he quickly opened his eyes and grabbed onto the trunk of the tree.

"Harry…" Clay grumbled as he rubbed his arms trying to stop shivering.

Once again the ten year old, making sure his footing was stable and pointedly not looking at the floor, tried to focus. He was starting to think that transforming back into a person at the top of a tree might not have been the smartest thing he had ever done.

"You can't do it now, can you?" Clay said, as he leaned on the window sill, laughing at his friend.

"Can too!" Harry called back, going for his third attempted, but already knowing, that despite his protests, Clay was right. He was magically exhausted and now stuck up a tree.

"Can you at least climb down?" Clay asked as Harry surveyed the position he was stuck in.

"Don't think so," Harry decided, braving a glance down. "Get your broom!" he called out to Clayton and at this command his best friend looked a little sheepish.

"I can't," Clay admitted.

"Why not?" Harry questioned; Clay had had his broom yesterday, how could he have lost it in such a short time?

"Dad took it off me," Clay said as if it was an everyday occurrence. Though lately it had been, ever since Clay and Harry had been upping the amount of pranks they'd been playing.

"Why?" he asked, suddenly his curiosity overriding his concerns about his current location.

"Dad was getting a little tired of salty coffee in the mornings," Clayton said with a shrug.

"How am I meant to get down then?" Harry asked. They could always ask Damon for help if it came to it, but that was really going to be their final resort as he would certainly want an explanation. Not to mention that Harry was sure Damon would tell his Dad.

"Wait there, I'm coming!" Clayton said as he shut his bedroom window and considered for a moment how he was going to sneak past his Dad and get outside. However, this didn't appear that it was going to cause a problem as when he opened his bedroom door he could distinctly head Damon arguing with someone over the phone.

On his tiptoes and taking extra care to be as quiet as he could, Clayton stole down the stairs, heading for the back door with his wand in his hand. He hesitated when he heard his Dad stall, as if he had heard something or subconsciously knew that the two young boys were up to no good; Clay held his breath, not moving until he heard his Dad resume his yelling down the phone again.

He grabbed his shoes in the hallway and quickly put them on before he pushed open the back door carefully, wincing as it squeaked a little but his Dad hadn't even paused his ranting down the phone so Clay assumed he had gotten away with it. Making sure the back door was shut again, he headed around the side of the house to where the tree was in their garden.

"Not fallen down yet?" Clay teased as he stood at the base of the tree looking up at where his best friend was still perched. It really did look a lot higher up from down on the ground, than it had when he was up in his room.

"I'm not going to fall," Harry insisted stubbornly, though admittedly he didn't really know how he was going to get down without that happening, "I wouldn't give you the satisfaction. I bet you wouldn't have been able to stay up here this long."

"I so would," Clay argued back.

"Well we can't find out because there is no way you could get this far up," Harry challenged and even being too high up to see it he knew that Clay's eyes would have lit up with the challenge of it.

Clay was determined, it was just a tree after all, and so he hurried forward and pulled himself up onto the first branch. Once they were both up there then he could help Harry get down, and hopefully all before his Dad got off the phone and realised where they were. Clay was sure that they both would be in a lot of trouble if caught.

"You're actually going to climb all the way up here?" Harry asked with amusement, he had just been teasing but he should have known better than to believe his best friend could resist such taunting. " I'm going to laugh when you fall, Clay."

"I am a better climber than you," he called up as he pulled himself up on to the next branch.

"I didn't climb up here," Harry pointed out, watching as Clay continued to make his way carefully up the tree.

"I know, but you couldn't even climb down," Clay teased.

"I so could," Harry said stubbornly, if he hadn't been worried about letting go of his hold on the trunk then he would have folded his arms across his chest.

"Prove it," Clayton challenged as he made sure he had a tight grip on the next branch, pulling himself up, further from the ground.

"I'm enjoying the view," Harry huffed, averagely impressed at the expertise with which his best friend was managing to climb up to him.

"Sure you are," Clay said, obviously not believing a word of it. He managed to pull himself up the last few branches until he was on one just a little lower than where Harry was sitting. "It is a pretty great view, though," he agreed, looking down at how high he had climbed up, they were about in line with the bottom of the roof of the house and he was starting to realise why Harry had been a little hesitant about climbing back down.

"Great, now what?" Harry asked, watching the way Clay's face flashed with momentary nervousness when he looked down.

"Now…" Clay said, giving himself a moment to think. Grinning as an idea came to him. "Now we levitate ourselves down."

"That sounds awesome," Harry said excitedly. "You first," he added quickly, not wanting to be the one they experimented with.

"No way, you first. It was your magic trick that got us stuck up here in the first place," Clayton argued back.

"Ah HA! So you admit you're stuck too," Harry said victorious, before the two of them looked at each other and burst out laughing. "Same time?" Harry suggested.

"What, so you levitate me and I levitate you?" Clay asked, as he seemed to think it over carefully.

"Yeah," Harry said, as he pulled out his wand. "Wingardium Leviosa," he called out, not waiting for his friend to have time to pull out his own wand.

"WHOA!" Clay cried out as his feet suddenly and quite unexpectedly left the branch he was standing on. He scrambled to try and get a grip on the trunk but it seemed that Harry was struggling to control him. "Lower, Harry, not higher," he pointed out when he seemed to be heading up towards his best friend.

Harry had definitely underestimated how difficult it was to levitate a person; Clay was certainly a fair bit heavier than the feathers, cushions and even books, that he had practiced with and give how magically exhausted he already was there was nothing he could really do to stop his friend's increasingly rapid drift towards him.

"Uh oh," Harry said faintly just before Clay collided with him.

"Harry!" Clay cried out in protest as the two of them clung to each other as the momentum pushed Harry out of the tree too and left the both floating in midair.

"Sorry…." Harry said, "Really really sorry…" he added as he struggled to keep them in midair and accidentally crashed them into one of the large branches.

And the spell broke; he couldn't hold it any longer and all either of them knew was that they were falling, far too fast and it was only by sheer luck that they were missing most of the branches.

Clay cried out in shock as his arm hit a large branch, forcing it out at a funny angle; he could hear Harry's screams too. It felt like it took a strangely long time before he hit the ground though and when he did it sure hurt. His Dad was going to kill him, was the first thought through his head as he lay there on the damn grass. Well second thought, the first one was definitely 'Ouch'.

"Harry?" Clay called out, "you okay?"

"I think so," Harry called back, "pretty sure my leg is broken though and… yep, my arm too by the looks of it, on the plus side, it doesn't hurt. You?"

"Good for you, because this REALLY hurts," Clay told him. He too was pretty sure at least one of his legs was broken, and there was no doubt that his arm was in a bad way.

"Our Dads are going to kill us," Harry said.

"Yep," Clay agreed.

"Clayton! Harry!" Damon said as he hurried over to where the two teenagers were still lying on the ground. He had come running the moment he had heard their screams from the back garden. "Where are you hurt?" he asked desperately. He was sure he would be furious and want an explanation later, but right now he had to make sure they were okay.

"My leg and my arm," Harry told him, and Damon could see that both looked obviously broken.

"Same," Clay agreed, "though I think I might have broken both legs," he added, turning his head to grin at his best friend, despite the pain.

"You always have to outdo me, don't you?" Harry joked.

"This is NOT funny, Harry Prince," Damon told him sternly. "I am going to have to go get Severus…"

"No!" Harry called out before he could stop himself. He really didn't want his Dad to know, even if that was inevitable.

"Yes," Damon retorted, "I can't heal broken bones. Now, do I need to tell you both to not move until I get back?" he asked.

"No, Dad," Clayton said.

"I don't think we could if we wanted to," Harry added with a cheeky grin.

"You're Dad is going to be so mad," Clay pointed out.

"Yep," Harry agreed, completely resigned to his fate. He was pretty sure he would be spending the next week doing nothing but homework but there was one thing that might stop the situation getting any worse. "Clay…"

"Yeah?" he responded.

"Let's not tell them how this happened," Harry suggested.

"Good idea," Clay agreed. "We take the secret to the grave."

Harry offered his non-broken arm out for Clay to shake on their agreement, which was fairly amusing when Clay's one functioning arm was the opposite one to Harry's meaning they couldn't shake hands, something that made them both giggle hysterically but they managed a little fist bump instead. This was how Damon and Severus found their ten year old boys ten minutes later when they arrived to heal them.

"You are in so much trouble, Harry Prince," Severus stated, Harry just let out a groan; his Dad was really going to make him regret this.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed this little snippet from Harry and Clay's childhood. Don't forget to review and let us know what you think.


	15. Cracks

Fragmented Soul: The Furry Bits

Cracks

5th January 1996

Lyla dipped down before swooshing back up, a giggling Kalila in her arms. Her daughter was beautiful; her dark curls bouncing and her infectious laugh filling the clearing. It had been just over five years since Lyla had stumbled her way into this pack and they had allowed her to stay. She had been eight months pregnant at the time, dehydrated and malnourished, close to being dead.

They had allowed her to stay, fed her, ensured that she was healthy and delivered her daughter less than a month later, on the thirty-first of January, ensuring that they both survived the labour. She owed this pack a lot and that was why she had stayed. To begin with she had missed Micha and had wanted to carry on her search for him but it quickly became apparent that she was never going to find him, especially not with a new born baby in tow, and not in the middle of winter either. Her best hope was to remain somewhere that was safe for their daughter.

Tristan, her Alpha, had wanted her to stay and had even encouraged and helped when she had wanted to look for Micha. Lyla got the impression that there was more between the Alpha and her Micha than he would let on but she put it down to guilt for abandoning him and left it at that. It was only after Kalila had turned two that she had given up looking. She hadn't wanted to but after so long with no leads and nothing to go on she had to realise that maybe he didn't want to be found.

Now that her precious daughter was four, Kalila was really starting to take on her own little personality; she was a quiet child, but she never stopped watching and thinking, and she definitely had her father's mischievous cheekiness. She was really growing to have equal parts of her parent's characteristics. Her dark hair echoed that of her mother, thick and black, but it was her eyes that gave away who her father was. They were intensely purple and undoubtedly belonged to Micha; Lyla loved her daughter's eyes more than anything, she could stare into them endlessly if Kalila would only hold still long enough to allow it.

The Alpha too was particularly fond of the cheeky little madam, who was always up to some form of mischief, just like her Daddy had once been. The way the little girl acted and behaved reminded Tristan of Micha in so many ways; he could happily just watch her for hours. The only member of the pack who Kalila didn't have wrapped around her little finger was her step-father, Jared.

Soon after Lyla had given up in her search for Micha, the Beta wolf, Jared, had made his move and began to woo and court her; however, he had always made it clear that he had no interest in her little pup. Kalila wasn't his and he resented the child a little, though he would never admit it; he would always tolerate her and never said a bad word about her either, but the feeling still lingered in his gut, languishing inside of him like a disease.

"Leave the little one with the Alpha," a strong male voice said as he wrapped his arms around Lyla from behind, as she placed Kalila down on her own two feet. "Let's have some time just the two of us."

"Jared," Lyla said, chastising her mate. "I can't keep leaving her with Tristan, she's my little girl." She relaxed into the embrace, tilting her head to one side and allowing him to nuzzle into her neck. She loved him, she did but it was not a love that came close to what she had had with Micha, at least what she remembered of it.

The almost five year old watched curiously. She had never called Jared 'Daddy'; not that he wanted her to and Lyla didn't want that either. She told her daughter about Micha every night as a bedtime story and the little girl loved to listen to her. Kalila was fascinated about her Dad and who he had been. However, she rarely said a word. It wasn't that she couldn't speak, it was more that she just didn't want to, preferring to observe and to think.

"It's always about her," Jared said distastefully. "Come, let's practice making one of our own," he suggested as he nipped at her ear. Lyla had captured his heart, body and soul the moment that she had come to them in the arms of Tristan, weak and almost dead; however, whenever he looked at Kalila he wished that he had killed Micha when he had had the chance.

"Jared," Lyla said softly, "I don't want another, not yet," she told him, just as she had told him several times before. She knew how desperate he was for pups of his own but it wasn't something that she could give him, not yet; at least, not when Kalila was so young. She wanted to enjoy her daughter before having another child and she was hesitant because she had only fully accepted him a year ago, she felt that it was just too soon for talk about pups.

"Fine," Jared growled, releasing his hold on his mate and storming off into the forest. Lyla sighed; she had said the wrong thing again, she was always doing that and now her mate was unhappy with her. She would have to go and talk to him, and she felt pretty annoyed that she was left with no choice but ask the Alpha to watch Kalila so she could do so.

It was taking her a while to adjust to being with Jared. She hadn't thought that she would ever be with anyone other than Micha; it had taken her a long while to accept that she probably would never see him again and that the only part of him she had was Kalila. She knew that Jared was a little jealous of the attention that was lavished upon the young girl; Kalila was one of the youngest in the pack and doted upon greatly.

"Come on my precious girl, shall we see if Alpha Tristan will watch you while I talk to your Uncle Jared?" she asked her little one, who nodded. Kalila had always been a quite child, silence was a default setting for the young girl but even as she sat quietly you could see the cogs in her mind ticking over as she thought things through and planned out the next bit of trouble she could get herself into.

"He gone off in a strop again?" the six foot four blond Adonis of a man asked as Lyla placed Kalila down beside him. The little girl immediately toddled over to the Alpha male and deposited herself into his lap, he accepted her without complaint or question even though he had his own three and a half year old son, Timmy, there already.

"Yes," Lyla said with a sigh, "Do you mind, it's just while I talk to him."

"Of course not," Tristan replied. "You go ahead, I'm sure I can keep this little one out of trouble for a few moments."

As Lyla wandered off to find Jared, Tristan scooped up the almost five year old into his arms, holding her above his head and wiggling her about as she giggled as Timmy remained sat, curled in his lap. He looked up into her amethyst eyes that reminded him so much of Micha, the one who had got away because of his stupid mistake. He had little Kalila though, a small part of Micha that he could cherish and protect where he had failed so spectacularly with her father.

"The way you look at her," Thomas said with a sigh from beside him as he took Timmy from the Alpha male's lap. He was under no illusion; he knew he was second best, that he would never hold Tristan's heart even though they were mates and he had given the Alpha a son. Thomas loved Tristan and he was happy to be second best because Micha was never coming back.

"Tommy…" Tristan said sadly, looking to his mate as he settled Kalila into his lap where she snuggled into him as if she belonged. He wished that he could really love Thomas as much as he deserved to be; his hair was the same sandy blonde as Micha's but instead of sticking up in messy tufts it lay flat and obedient, his brown eyes lacking the laughter that Micha's amethyst orbs had shown. He really missed Micha.

"It's okay, Tristan, I understand," Thomas said with a small smile, picking up their son and standing to walk away. The Alpha male didn't try and stop him from leaving; he felt so guilty for putting the man through that but he couldn't change how he felt. Looking down at the child in his arms he was shocked to see that Kalila was staring at him intently in the way she always seemed to do, just watching.

Sitting herself up a little, Kalila smiled sweetly at the Alpha male, reaching her hand up and pressing it to his cheek. "It's okay to be sad, Alpha Tristan," she said. It wasn't often that she spoke at all but her voice was soft and gentle, nothing like what you would have expected of a girl her age. Then, shocking the Alpha, the young girl curled her arms around his neck and hugged him, her whispered words echoing in his ear. "Sometimes my mummy is sad too."

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Hope you enjoyed this little snippet. More on Lyla to come. Do you like her and Kalila as characters, what about the others? Leave us a review and let us know what you think.


	16. Chef Alpha

**Fragmented Soul - The Furry Bits**

**Chef Alpha**

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**Please note the date, this is set after Fragmented Soul's end game so by all means hunt for some clues and let us know what conclusions you've come to.**

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**Late June 1999**

The summer sun was burning down on the clearing in Oakhill Wood where the Greyback pack had made their home for more years than the Alpha could care to count. Despite everything that had happened, they were here and they had survived and, of course, they were happy and they were they had made themselves a home and were thriving.

Some of the pack members had even had pups of their own; Damon was the next to be a father as he had impregnated his mate, Micha, who was now only a month shy of being ready to birth their first child. His belly protruded quite a way and was making the submissive rather uncomfortable and grouchy but Damon couldn't help but think that his mood swings were endearing; though he was the only one.

The only thing that was missing in the Alpha's eyes was his own little pup, though it wasn't through lack of trying that they weren't already expecting. Harry had just graduated from Hogwarts earlier in the month and the two of them had secretly been trying to conceive since just after New Year, knowing that if he fell pregnant early that Harry would still have time to finish school as he had wanted to. It was frustrating to Fenrir that so far they hadn't been successful; he was not a patient man and his wolf was feeling rather unsettled that he had been unable to impregnate his mate.

The Alpha pair were yet again bickering; temperatures had reached record levels and no one was in the best of moods. Most of the pack had skulked off into the shade, taking the infant pups with them to keep them out of the sun. No one wanted to be dealing with sunburnt infants later in the evening. Harry and Fenrir were stood by the fire and, as per usual, the younger of the two was getting rather exasperated with his mate.

"What is the worst thing that could possibly happen if you just try?" Harry asked, stuck between frustration and amusement at the expense of his large oaf of a mate. Fenrir was not exactly happy about being stood before the roaring fire, it was the last place on earth that he wanted to be on such a scorching hot day, and being with his mate only made it slightly better. However, it was the pointedly exasperated look that Harry was giving him that was riling him up to the point of walking away.

Harry had always thought it felt somewhat wrong to leave all of the responsibility of preparing meals almost entirely on the women of the pack, with the only assistance coming from one or two of the men who had proven their skills; all he really wanted was for the Alpha to give it a go, for Fenrir to at least show willingness to try and learn. The cooking of three meals a day every day for a pack as large as theirs, which was still growing too, was no easy task, especially with three pups still in infancy to care for as well.

There were fourteen of them in total including the three infant pups; Micha and Damon's baby, whenever he or she decided to make an appearance, would put the total numbers of their pack up to fifteen. Just keeping all the supplies at a good level, and ensuring that everyone was well cared for and fed, was keeping everyone busy.

"I might poison you all," Fenrir suggested grumpily, as he folded muscle bound arms across his large chest. Anyone else, including all of the other pack members, would have been intimidated by the look that the Alpha was currently giving Harry. They would all have known what was good for them and, at the very least, backed off at once; or more than likely run in the opposite direction, terrified; but not Harry. He simply stood his ground and glared right back at the Alpha male without so much as flinching.

Harry would always be the first to admit that most of the pack member's attempts at cooking were nothing short of disastrous, but at least they had tried; none of the resulting food had even caused any harm to them, except perhaps to their taste buds. Though he suspected that this was more due to the fact that as werewolves their stomachs were slightly more resilient to the bugs that caused food poisoning.

Romy had always been of the opinion that it was laziness rather than incompetence that prevented the other pack members from producing a decent meal however one by one they had swiftly proved her wrong. If it came down to it, in an emergency, then they would all be able to scrounge up a meal that wouldn't kill them and might at least be edible and not make them sick but there was no guarantee that it would taste any good.

"I am not suggesting we leave you to make it all by yourself," Harry told him with exasperation, and a stern glare that clearly said no one would be that reckless with their meal. He wouldn't have left it that much up to chance, not even with the recipe cards Callie had made in their attempt to teach the others how to prepare the food.

"We aren't going to let you go that far wrong and I'll be here with you to help, I promise," Harry added, wrapping his arms around the Alpha's neck, standing on his tip toes and pulling his mate down far enough that he was able to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Harry had always loved how much taller Fenrir was to him, it made kissing him wonderfully possessive, pulling him down low enough to claim him.

Fenrir growled low in his throat when Harry released his grip; as much as the Alpha always enjoyed his kisses from Harry, on this occasion it still made him want to sulk, stubbornly, that his little mate would use them to get his own way. Not that he usually denied Harry anything, even without the affectionate gestures they were so prone to sharing. Harry was far too cunning when it came to getting his own way, bending the large Alpha male to his will with ease.

"Alphas don't cook," Fenrir insisted unhappily in one last ditch attempt to worm his way out of it without upsetting his mate, but the expression on Harry face told him instantly that he had said the wrong thing and it had not even come close to working either.

The slightly smug smile that was appearing on his little mate's face gave him a sinking feeling in his gut that he had probably accidentally backed himself into a corner on this issue now, one that he wasn't about to get out of in a hurry. He never liked that look. He might have been the Alpha male, and the one person that the rest of the pack looked to and respected, but there was something about his mate that made him weak; and, what was worse, the entire pack knew it, though none of them would ever be stupid enough to voice it aloud.

"Oh, it's beneath you, is it?" Harry challenged, with a far too innocent expression on his face, an eyebrow raised in amusement as he looked at his domineering mate. Harry was rather enjoying teasing his Alpha into helping with the cooking; he loved to poke and prod at all the right buttons until he got his own way.

"That isn't what I said, little one," the Alpha told him gruffly; glad they were having this conversation out of ear shot from the rest of the Pack. Those that were still in the clearing, braving the heat, were occupying themselves, making sure the heavily pregnant Micha was content, or as content as could be in the heat, ensuring that he was well shaded and had plenty of water to drink. Most of them however were caring for the pups just inside of the treeline where the trees provided plenty of shade for the youngsters who were of an age where they still needed constant supervision.

"Do you think you're above it then? That you're better than Callie, or Romy?" Harry went on. "Or better than me?" he asked, he had to force himself to keep a straight face as he wanted to laugh so badly at the horrified expression on the Alpha's face. It was clear that Fenrir thought he had genuinely hurt Harry's feelings by what he had said.

Fenrir let out a groan; he honestly didn't feel that way; he was their Alpha and therefore their leader, the one to take the responsibility of the difficult decision making and keep them all safe but he didn't think any one of them as less than himself. He cared very much for his Pack, they were everything to him, literally his family in every way other than blood, he would give everything for them, but he was an Alpha male and Alphas didn't cook. It was the pack leader's job to hunt, fight, defend, protect, provide... but cook... that was not part of it!

However, his little mate, as usual, was not going to give in without a small war it seemed. That was just Harry's stubborn nature, and though he loved the younger werewolf very much, he was sure that this particular part of Harry's personality, alone, was going to cut several years off his life span just due to all the stress it caused him on a day to day basis.

"Perhaps you think it is too feminine a job, then?" Harry asked, daring for the Alpha to be goaded into the argument but ensuring that he kept his tone sweet and innocent. He knew just how easy it would be to have the Alpha to put his foot in it and say the wrong thing. They had been together years now and Harry knew exactly what to say and how to act to get just what he wanted from his mate, most of the time without Fenrir even realising that he had lost the argument.

The Alpha didn't really know quite what to say to that, he had nothing against men cooking so it wasn't that exactly, but it did seem... softer almost. It just didn't feel manly to him. He had never seen the appeal of learning, his own mother had never been much of a cook in the five years that he had known her and he had then spent the majority of his childhood in orphanages, scavenging for survival.

Besides that chopping vegetables and following recipes required a level of concentration and patience he just didn't have. Callie had been very thoughtful with the cards she had written out with the clear and concise instructions but just looking at them from a distance seemed to put him in a foul mood. He had witnessed over the years just how much time and effort that some members of their pack put into preparing the meals and he didn't think it was something that he would ever have the patience or skill to do.

"Or perhaps you think it's something left for the weaker members of the pack to do?" Harry asked, almost daring Fenrir to comment. "Do you really believe cutting a few vegetables will mean you are less of a man?" Now he was full on challenging the larger man, trying desperately to get a reaction and enjoying himself far too much.

Fenrir could see the trap clear as day now; he couldn't refuse to give this cooking lark a go no matter what he said or did, not without belittling the work that his little mate frequently undertook. Besides not wanting to upset or anger Harry, there was also the possibility of risking those most capable of cooking going on strike to prove just how important a job it was that they did. He certainly couldn't say anything without risking it sounding as though he thought Harry was feminine for the assistance he gave the pack females with the cooking either.

"You know, I really like helping with the cooking," Harry told him, a scowl on his face and his arms crossed over his chest defensively, glaring at his mate and lover, daring him to say anything and rather enjoying the fact that he was making his mate squirm a little.

"I know that," Fenrir conceded, but still feeling uncomfortable with the idea of being involved in the process of cooking any of the packs meals and a little baffled about how Harry had managed to talk his way around him so easily... again. His little mate was getting rather good at it and often enough Fenrir didn't even realise that it was happening until it was too late and he had to cave to his submissive mate's will.

"Does this mean you think me less masculine?" Harry asked, and there was glimpse of hurt in his emerald eyes. "I know I'm all male, but maybe you would prefer finding yourself some pretty little female mate instead, if that's what you'd prefer?" he suggested sadly, turning around to face away from the Alpha.

Harry was actually pretty confident about his place as the Alpha's mate and equally sure that Fenrir liked him exactly as he was, masculinity and all; but he wasn't above tricking his mate's cooperation out of him. He let a small sly smile slip onto his lips, while Fenrir was unable to see his face. He knew he would get his way eventually; he always did.

"I want you, not some woman," the Alpha growled in his ear as strong arms wrapped around his slender waist, pulling him back into Fenrir's large and powerfully muscled chest and holding him there, placing soft kisses on his neck. The Alpha's lips grazed over the mating mark he had placed there three years previously, loving the intake of breath that this initiated from his little mate.

Harry schooled his face again into innocent insecurity before he looked up over his shoulder at the Alpha male, probably playing his part far too well. "Are you sure?" he asked, blinking slowly as he gave a small shy smile.

"I'm sure. You're mine," Fenrir insisted, his voice deep and possessive as his arms tightened around his little mate protectively, realising now just how much he had been manipulated and strangely enough he found that he didn't mind too much. It was all part of Harry's undeniable charm. "And stop playing innocent, little one. I am not fooled by your act."

Harry's trousers were suddenly feeling significantly more snug, as arousal swept through him at the tone of voice Fenrir was using; though Harry noted that it was a clearly mutual feeling, if the hard length pressing against the small of his back was anything to go by. To feel the growing erection there made butterflies stir in the pit of his stomach.

Even after all this time of being together Fenrir still gave him this feeling of excitement and anticipation that was undeniable. Taking one of the Alpha's large hands, which was wrapped around his waist, Harry moved it lower to his erection, which he cupped in the large palm. Both of them suddenly glad that they had some privacy away from the rest of the pack and more particularly the young pups.

The warmth and pressure at his groin meant that Harry had to bite back a small groan of satisfaction before he was able to speak. "Then how about I show just how masculine I am, despite all the cooking I do?" Harry suggested teasingly.

"Good idea," the Alpha agreed, lightly nipping at Harry's neck with his teeth.

"Excellent," Harry said, managing to turn around in Fenrir's arms and grin up at him victoriously. "You help us with dinner later and then I promise we will do all sorts of very manly, masculine things with this," he told his mate, as he ran one of his little hands across the fabric, which was straining over the evidence of his Alpha's own arousal.

"You are very devious, little one," Fenrir chastised. "I will help cook," he agreed, "but we play first." Fenrir saw his opportunity to worm his way out of the task he saw no point in partaking in; however, Harry wasn't stupid and had foreseen the easy agreement to the plan.

Harry's grin widened, aware that they both now had rather obvious problems that they would have to deal with before anything practical could be done, and he was definitely not opposed to relieving himself with the help of his mate, in fact he rather liked the idea however he saw right through his Alpha. "Deal," he said, "but first, you're going to go promise Callie that you will help with dinner, so you can't back out of it later."

Fenrir growled, as his last hope of escape was stolen from him; he would not make such a promise only to break it and Harry very well knew that. "Fine," he growled. "Deal," he agreed with gruff reluctance, sweeping Harry up into his arms and throwing him over his shoulder with surprising ease though he took great care in doing it.

"Oi!" Harry protested; his arms hitting lightly at the Alpha's back, his legs flailing in a rather feeble and definitely futile attempt to get away. "Put me down, you great oaf, you need to be more careful with me" he said, but he was laughing at the impatience of his mate. Fenrir manoeuvred Harry so that he was carrying him a little more delicately, giving him a questioning look.

Harry bit at his bottom lip, he hadn't meant to say anything just yet, he had wanted it to be his little secret for a while longer. He knew that the moment the Alpha found out the man would be intolerable, if Damon's actions had been anything to go by when they had found out about Micha. He didn't want to be fussed over too early because he knew that it would get rather tiring after a while.

"Callie!" the Alpha yelled across the clearing, turning the whole Pack's attention to him. "I will help with dinner when we return!" The Alpha didn't wait for any kind of response from her before he was already heading off towards the woods to find them some privacy, ensuring that they went in the opposite direction to where the pups were playing. "Care to tell me why I need to be careful with you, little one?"

The last thing Harry saw as they left the clearing was the amused faces, and waving hands, of this pack brothers and sisters; oh he was so going to get teased for this later he was sure. Good job he knew it would be worth it; both the sex and then finally getting to see the Alpha chopping vegetables... and then perhaps more sex afterwards too.

"Umm…" Harry began nervously, chewing on his lower lip as he debated how to tell his mate what he had discovered only two mornings previously. Callie had helped him confirm that he was right and then been sworn to secrecy. She understood just why Harry wanted to keep it a secret for a little while and had seen no harm in not telling anyone his secret.

"Little one?" Fenrir questioned with concern, worried that something was wrong with his mate as they headed deeper into the forest where they were guaranteed privacy.

"I'm not telling you anything until you promise that you'll still fuck me senseless and show me just how masculine you think I am!" Harry said pointedly, still being held in his mate's arms. Fenrir glared at his mate but knew that it would get him nowhere, it never did. Reluctantly he nodded his head and muttered his promise.

Taking a deep breath, looking into his mates stunning golden eyes, arms wrapped around Fenrir's neck he smiled at him, knowing how happy this news was going to make his Alpha. They had been trying for months now and it had finally paid off. "I'm pregnant," Harry told him quietly.

The Alpha male just gaped at him, for once in his life he was lost for words. "You're what?" Fenrir asked in shock, wanting to make sure that he had heard his mate right. He released his grip around his mate, allowing Harry to stand on his own two feet; however, the submissive kept his arms wrapped around his Alpha's neck, keeping their bodies pressed together.

"Pregnant," Harry said again, confirming it for his shocked mate and this time Fenrir barely waited for him to finish the word before rough lips were smashed against his. It was a desperately passionate kiss that held so much joy at what Fenrir had just been told. He had been waiting to hear the word from his mate for so long and now that it was confirmed he couldn't hold back just how happy he was that he was finally going to have a pup or pups of his own.

Grinning as they withdrew from their embrace, Harry snaked his hand between them, cupping the still throbbing erection in the Alpha's jeans. Fenrir frowned a little, worried about what affect having sex would have on the little baby, his baby, growing inside of his mate, not wanting to hurt it.

His hesitation and frown however caused Harry glare at him. "You promised," he said pointedly. This was exactly why he had made the Alpha promise. Damon had been the same with Micha; it had taken months for Damon to finally be convinced that as long as he wasn't too rough, which he never was, then sex wasn't going to do his and Micha's baby any damage. Harry was horny and he wasn't willing to wait months; he wanted his mate right now.

Fenrir gave a short bark like laugh, kissing his mate again. "I know little one," he said, "and I fully intend on keeping my promises." Harry smiled up at his mate; his life had never been all sunshine and rainbows, at times it had been hellish, but there were definitely moments, like this one, when things felt pretty damn near perfect.

As a pack they had been through loss, pain and grief but here they were, together and a family, stronger and more united than ever before. Harry was a month away from his eighteenth birthday and he was finally going to give his mate what he had always wanted, pups of their own.

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Hope you enjoyed this Furry Bit. Don't forget to leave a review and let us know what you think.


	17. Fatherhood

Fragmented Soul: The Furry Bits

Fatherhood

January 3rd 2000

It was the early hours of the morning and the entire pack were sleeping peacefully; all except for Fenrir, who was sat up watching over his mate and new born child. Harry had given birth late evening the day before and was now having a well-deserved rest, their tiny baby huddled in a cradle of blankets beside him. Fenrir couldn't take his eyes of either of them, he just couldn't believe how lucky he was. He had a gorgeous mate, and a healthy little boy too. As he watched he saw that the bundle of blankets that contained his son start to move, a small whimpering sound coming from within.

He could see that the tiny child was fighting valiantly to get free from the swaddling blanket that Harry had so carefully wrapped around him to keep him warm. It was early January and the weather was bitterly cold; though the snow had not touched them in their well warded clearing, the sharp sting of winter was truly upon them.

Moving quickly and quietly, the Alpha wolf manoeuvred himself over to his son and mate; he didn't want to wake Harry, who had had his stomach cut into only hours earlier and needed the rest before he would be back up to his full strength. He had been given pain potion and dreamless sleep but Fenrir was still aware that if their child started to cry then he would probably wake.

With greater care than he had ever taken with anything else in his life, Fenrir picked up the tiny baby, his and Harry's baby, cradling him in his arms. He moved towards where Damon slept with Micha and their own four and a half month old in his arms. Gently Fenrir gave his best friend a nudge with his foot; he didn't want everyone awake at this hour, especially not the four young pups.

Damon groaned softly at the disruption of his sleep and forced his eyes open as he looked up over his shoulder, his brain managing to register who is was standing over him. "What is it, my Alpha?" he asked groggily as he carefully sat up; he was mindful not to jostle his still slumbering mate and baby, whom he had affectionately nicknamed Podge, much to Micha's dismay.

"I didn't want to wake Harry," the Alpha wolf grunted softly. He hated to admit that he needed help, however, he honestly had no clue where to start. It frustrated him no end to know that he couldn't even care for his own son. He had never had any contact with baby's before, not even the other youngsters of the pack because they had never been his.

"I'll make up a bottle for you," Damon said with a soft smile. He understood instantly what Fenrir was asking without actually asking at all. Decades of translating Fenrir grunts and blunt statements into their full meaning had not been for nothing and there were times like this that he could read his best friend like a book.

The Alpha nodded his head in thanks, grateful, more than ever, for his best friend as he went to take a seat close to the fire so that they'd be warm and far enough away from the others that the rest of the pack wouldn't be woken. He sat himself on one of the tree trunks that he had turned into a bench for them not long after Harry had first gone off to Hogwarts. They had made a wonderful addition to their clearing and were proving to be especially useful now there were five pups to take care of too.

Terrified of hurting the tiny baby, the Alpha wolf laid the bundle of blankets that contained his son on his thighs, staring down at him in amazement. He still found it hard to believe that he and Harry had created something so perfectly beautiful together, their little munchkin. Harry had suggested that their son should be called 'little one' now, given that he was so tiny, but Fenrir had been quick to assure his mate that he would always be his little one. 'But he is such a little munchkin,' Harry had argued back, and the name had stuck so far.

Harry had wrapped their little boy up well, to protect his tiny body against the cold. As Fenrir loosened the swaddling blankets around him, he saw that little white scratch mittens covered his hands, a thick fleecy bodysuit in powder blue covered his body and knowing Harry there was at least two more layers beneath that too. Wispy tufts of black baby hair were sticky out from beneath the thick cotton hat on his head; their son had seemingly taken Harry's unruly mop of hair, much to Fenrir's amusement.

Large golden eyes were looking up at him, his boy's brow furrowed in a frown which only made the Alpha wolf want to laugh; though, he thought proudly, his son's scowl was perhaps already more than a match for Harry's attempts. He couldn't quite believe how tiny their baby was, only just too big to fit in one of Fenrir's large hands; he had of course held him several times since his birth but he was still terrified of crushing him.

Damon silently approached his Alpha, who seemed so absorbed in the infant on his lap that he almost didn't want to disturb him. He knelt down, shaking the bottle of powdered milk thoroughly to ensure that it was well and truly mixed together before testing it on his wrist; he had applied a warming charm on it before coming over and as he was fairly tired he didn't want to have risk having over done it and injure the Alpha's son. Fenrir gave the bottle a look of utter disdain as it was handed to him, hating that he didn't know what he was doing.

"Perhaps I should..." Damon started to suggest but Fenrir cut him off with a low growl of annoyance.

"No," the Alpha snapped in a hushed tone so not to scare his child or to wake the others who were still sleeping just a short distance away. "Pass it here," he demanded. The Alpha wolf adjusted the newborn to the crook of his arm, accepting the bottle from Damon, determined to care for his son himself.

"Gently does it," Damon said quietly as Fenrir teased the teat into his tiny son's mouth. The new born, without fuss, opened his mouth and accepted the bottle, instantly beginning to suckle on it. The Alpha beamed proudly at his son, watching him guzzle down his formula.

"He's certainly got an appetite," Damon said, watching the tiny baby, his heart swelling with love. The tiny baby was practically his grandson, seeing as he saw Harry as his son and this was his best friend's child too. There was no question of how precious this little boy was to him and to see Fenrir holding the baby warmed his heart.

He took a deep breath and relished the scent of his child, embedding it firmly in his memory. "He's going to be a big strong dominant wolf," Fenrir said, his voice bursting with love and pride.

"You can tell that?" Damon asked curiously.

"It's subtle but it's there," Fenrir said, his eyes never straying from the tiny baby in his arms, amazed at how beautiful his son was. He could have sat there and watched his son feed for hours.

"You should be proud," Damon said. "Of them both," he added, glancing over at where Harry was still sleeping peacefully.

"I am," Fenrir said vaguely, still transfixed by the sight of his amazing little boy. He was struggling a little to get his head around him being his and Harry's, but he loved the tiny child in his arms more than anything and he already knew there was nothing he wouldn't do for him.

"Make sure you burp him before you settle him down again," Damon said, smiling as he got to his feet, intending to go back to his own mate and child. "Just put him over your shoulder and rub at his back until he burps, even if he's asleep," he instructed.

"Thank you," Fenrir said, his voice soft as his son's eyes began to droop. Damon tore his eyes away from the Alpha male, turning to head back to his Micha and baby Podge. Fenrir truly meant what he said when he thanked his best friend, he wasn't sure that he could have survived the night without waking Harry if it hadn't have been for Damon.

* * *

You might have noticed that we didn't mention the names of the babies asides from their nicknames Podge and Munchkin. Well, that is because it's **competition time**! Those that bother to read the Furry Bits are also getting a head start because this won't be posted until chapter 23 in the main fic. (A little reward for being dedicated readers).

The competition is as follows. The first person to guess the parentage (so both 'mum' and dad) of all five of the babies listed below will get a chapter emailed to them a whole week early and have that chapter dedicated to them when it is posted for everyone else to read. All we ask is that you don't ruin if for everyone else with spoilers. The competition will be open ended until someone gets them all right and we'll announce the winner on the facebook page as well as getting into contact with you somehow.

The five children are as follows:

1 - Tobias

2 - Charlie

3 – Ceylon (Father only)

4- Violetta

5 - Leah


	18. Spinning

Fragmented Soul: The Furry Bits

Spinning

July 2002

"Watch this, Cey," Violetta said, her dark brown eyes twinkling as she ran up to the red haired boy; a bright smile lighting up her beautiful face. She threw her arms wide, tilting her head backwards and began to turn on the spot. The summer sun was glinting off her jet black hair, the neat ringlets flying in all different directions as she began to spin faster.

"I can do better than that," Ceylon said, crossing his arms over his chest. He was determined that whatever his pack sister could do, he could do better. They were the same age, just because she was two months older didn't mean that she was better, he was a boy that meant he was better by default.

Ceylon, copying Violetta, threw his arms out and started to spin, mimicking his pack sister. Violet stopped briefly to watch him, trying to steady herself as she laughed before starting to spin in the opposite direction to what she had been. Ceylon almost fell over when he stopped, everything was spinning so badly.

"You two will make yourselves sick," Harry said with slight disapproval as he removed the red fire truck that Toby and Charlie had been fighting over causing both of them to start to cry. Harry sighed, the two boys were always fighting over toys and the whole pack had discovered that it was easier to just remove the problem rather than settle the arguments between the two, even if that meant tears.

"Let them have their fun," Clayton said with amusement, watching the two five year olds with amusement. "Wasn't that long ago when that was us," he reminded his friend.

Harry looked at Clayton in amusement, "We're twenty-two, not ten Clay, or did you forget?"

"Yeah and you act thirty, if not older," Clayton teased. "Must be the influence of that old man you have for a mate," he hypothesised. Taking aim, Harry threw the red fire truck he had been holding at his best friend's head. Laughing Clay caught it, as Harry knew that he would.

Harry snorted in amusement, turning his attention back to the two, almost three year old boys that were still crying, though admittedly half-heartedly now as the two of them were now watching Harry and Clay with curious eyes.

"That's your Alpha you're talking about there, Clay," Romy pointed out casually from where she was sat playing some form of complicated clapping game with Leah that seemed to have a rather odious sing-song rhyme attached to it.

"I dare you to say that somewhere where he can hear you," Harry challenged. So far he was the only one who dared call Fenrir anything other than his name or Alpha to his face. He doubted Clay would have the guts to call Fenrir an old man in close proximity to the man; he also didn't have a head hard enough to withstand the clip round the ear he would no doubt get for such a comment.

Clayton laughed, but decided to change the subject before Harry actually talked him into saying something that stupid to Fenrir. If anyone had the power to talk him into something ridiculously stupid then it was his best friend. "Bet you couldn't do that now," Clay said, pointing at where Violet and Ceylon were both spinning again.

"Oh I bet I could," Harry said meeting the challenge head on. He might have been a mum now but that didn't mean he was any wiser for it; he still allowed himself to be goaded into silly, childhood challenges by Clayton. "Romy, watch the boys for me," Harry said decisively and Romy looked up vaguely from the hand clapping game she had been teaching Leah and nodded her head with an accompanying roll of her eyes.

Harry grinned as Clayton got to his feet and came to join him, the two of them sharing a look that spoke of the challenge laid down. Making sure there was enough distance between them and all of the young pups so that they wouldn't risk bumping into one of them. Harry put his arms out to the sides and started spinning just like Ceylon and Violetta; a few seconds later Clayton was joining in too.

"They're like children," Leah said to Romy, looking at the four spinning members of their pack incredulously. She was almost whole year older than Violetta and Ceylon and much preferred not to be included in their childish behaviour; she was a big girl now.

Romy couldn't help but laugh. "Yes they are, Leah, very childish," she agreed, though she had long ago given up on any hope that Harry and Clay might one day learn to behave like adults.

Harry was somewhat glad that the majority of the pack was off hunting or at least caught up enough in what they were doing to not be watching their antics. He was sure that the older pack members would not approve of how they were acting, though Micha might have been fairly amused and might even have joined in with them given half the chance.

Given how dizzy he was getting already; Harry was fairly sure that he was going to fall over soon if he didn't stop, but he was determined to outlast Clayton at the very least. His resolve to achieve this was somewhat weakened though, when he heard a familiar sequel of delight coming from the two toddlers still stood close to Romy. He had stopped what he was doing, the ground swaying beneath his feet, looking over to see that both Toby and Charlie were doing their level best to copy them.

"Woo, go Charlie, go Toby!" Clayton cheered, having also stopped spinning to watch the two young pup's rather wobbly attempt at spinning, if you could call it that. Charlie was the only one of the two toddlers that was managing to actually go in circles whereas Toby seemed to keep getting distracted and changing directions. There may only have been four and a half months between them but developmentally it was a huge gap.

"This might just be the cutest thing they have ever done," Harry said proudly, "and that's really saying something." He really loved these pups so very much, whether they were biologically his or not; he would protect and care for them all. He was the Alpha's mate after all and they were all a family as well as a pack, it was part of his role within the pack to love and care for them all, whether related by blood or not.

"Yeah, but I'm so not the one cleaning them up when Charlie makes himself sick," Clayton said, watching on as the little boy seemed to really get the hang of the spinning and began picking up the pace.

Toby, however, couldn't quite maintain his balance and fell over on to his bum, his nappy cushioning the blow; he sat on the floor for a moment laughing madly before he tried to get back up again. But between his laughter and dizziness the little toddler just couldn't find his feet; every time he got upright again, or something close to it, he would fall back down, laughing even harder, ending up rolling around on his back in the grass. Charlie meanwhile was concentrating hard, changing directions occasionally, but still going.

"YAY, I WIN!" Violetta yelled suddenly, and they turned to look at the two older pups; Ceylon sitting on the floor looking extremely cross.

"Doesn't count as winning if you cheat, Violet," Ceylon told her firmly as he crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at his pack sister venomously.

"I didn't cheat," Violetta said, crossing her arms over her chest, copying the defensive stance that Ceylon had taken and looking down her nose at him.

"You pushed me," Ceylon insisted, as he brushed himself off and got back to his feet, watching her with disapproval.

"Nuh uh," she retorted, shaking her head, "not my fault if you were spinning too close to me."

"Enough of that you two, or you'll be on dish duty with Callie," Harry told them firmly, before turning back to the two toddlers. "You win, Charlie," he said, stopping the little boys spinning and scooping him up into his arms before Clayton's prediction of being sick came true. "As for you, little man," he said as he swept the still laughing Toby up into his arms as well, carrying them both rather expertly, "you need to calm down before you make yourself sick just by laughing."

"Charlie wins? I think not," Clayton said firmly, as he started spinning again, the pups all laughing at him, even the toddlers in Harry's arms.

"Go faster!" Violetta ordered and Clay, of course, obliged.

"This is going to end badly," Harry told Romy, as he handed Toby over so that he was carrying only Charlie, given how heavy the toddlers were starting to get. Romy just nodded her agreement, accepting Tobias into her arms as she watched Clayton spinning as fast as he could. Leah leaned into her side, watching on dubiously as Clayton carried on.

Charlie was clapping happily where he was sat, resting on Harry's hip, Ceylon was cheering him on, and Violetta cried out repeated demands for him to spin ever faster; but then he stopped rather suddenly and Harry shook his head at his best friend when he saw how green in the face Clayton looked. They all paused for a moment, going very quiet and waiting to see what would happen next. This silent question was answered as Clay suddenly took off at a run for the edge of the clearing, a definite wobble from side to side in his stride as evidence of his dizziness.

Harry adjusted Charlie on his hip as the toddler strained to be put down so that he could have an attempt at outdoing Clay. The two of them were as thick as thieves and it was the opinion of the entire pack that Clayton was a rather bad influence on little Charlie. "I think he might not be feeling so great," Harry said with amusement, as the pups watched with expressions of confusion as Clayton rushed off.

"He really shouldn't have eaten those brownies for breakfast," Romy said with exasperation; Leah nodded her fervent agreement but Toby just giggled, rather enjoying the entertainment.

Violetta and Ceylon were clearly very amused too, if their laughter was any guide. "Come on, let's go see if he was actually sick," Violet said excitedly, grabbing Ceylon by the hand and dragging him off in the direction that Clay had gone.

"Don't leave the clearing," Harry called after them; he could see Clay from where he was, so he wasn't too worried but with those two it was always worth reiterating. They might not have been a conventional family, but they made it work.

* * *

Our competition is still running! So far no-one has correctly guessed all five, despite a huge number of guesses; we were serious when we said think outside the box.

It might help you to know that one of the babies was bitten to become a werewolf, not born as one. Guess the parentage (so both 'mum' and dad) of all five of the babies listed below:

1 – Tobias

2 – Charlie

3 – Ceylon (father only)

4 – Violetta

5 - Leah


	19. Impurity

Fragmented Soul: The Furry Bits

* * *

CONGRATULATIONS to our competition winners. Crazedblueeyez and HudHud9 who both posted the right answer within seconds of each other.

For those not on facebook (where we have posted a family tree of the pack) the answer was:

Tobias - Harry and Fenrir  
Charlie - Micha and Damon  
Ceylon - Lukas (the mother has yet to be introduced into the story)  
Violetta - Bellatrix and Tom Riddle/Voldemort  
Leah - Callie and Jenson

Thank you to everyone who entered, you are all awesome. As a runners up prize for everyone we have this Furry Bit today, a new chapter (23 - Fear) for Fragmented Soul tomorrow (20th), a new Furry bit (Jam Tarts) on the 22nd and the the Christmas chapter (24- Christmas with the pack) will be posted on Christmas Eve.

**Bicky and I will then take a two week break before any more chapters go up.**

* * *

Impurity

August 1979

He knew that he shouldn't be there, it was the eve of his wedding after all. In the morning he would be doing what was expected him as the only Malfoy heir and marrying the lovely Narcissa Black, whom his parents had arranged to be his wife. She was gorgeous, a pure blood and was of course the perfect bride for him. There was only one problem; he didn't love her.

Lucius Malfoy's heart lay with another, one that he could never be permitted to love publically. Chloe Wilshaw was a half-blood and therefore could never be seen as a suitable wife for Lucius as any child they produced would not be considered pure-blood. This would, of course, be entirely unacceptable for the future heir to the Malfoy name, estate and fortune. Lucius understood the duty he had to his family, he had been raised knowing his obligations and he knew that he couldn't ever marry Chloe, no matter his feelings for her.

Narcissa would be the perfect bride, he was certain of that much; she had been raised to play the role of wife, as much as he had been raised as the family heir. He had no place to complain about his situation; it wasn't as though he had got stuck with her slightly deranged older sister, who was nowhere near as fair or as easy to put up with. If he had been betrothed to Bellatrix then he might have put up more of a fight; however, Narcissa he would be able to tolerate.

Despite knowing all of this, he was still stood on Chloe's doorstep, wanting to see her one last time. He was sure that it would be the last time because, even if they ran into each other accidentally, he would never acknowledge her. After tonight they would be nothing more than strangers and over time he would forget and so would she. At least they could hope that this was the case, if it wasn't then they were both doomed to misery.

When she opened the door to him, he smiled; to lay eyes on her and to see her smile was beyond perfection. She had gorgeously kissable olive skin, which he knew every single inch of, and long dark brown hair that fell in delicate curls down over her shoulders. Her eyes were a stunning chocolate brown that looked at him with such love and affection that they made his heart melt. Tonight they held a glimmer of excitement within them that he hoped was simply at the anticipation of seeing him.

"I thought you might not be coming," she said, stepping aside and allowing him into her modest home. Her family were not poor by any standards but the five bedroom home was nowhere close to the grandeur and the twenty plus bedrooms that Malfoy Manor could boast. However, he did not love her for her money.

"I almost didn't," he told her regretfully. It was the truth, he had almost not been able to come but in the end he could not stay away. It felt wrong almost, visiting another woman on the eve of his wedding to another. There was no way that he couldn't see her tonight though, he had to say goodbye to her.

"I'm glad you came," she said, closing the front door and taking her lover by the hand. As was tradition she took him straight up the stairs to her bedroom. It wasn't that she didn't want anyone to see them, there was no one in the house but the house elves tonight, but their relationship did not exist outside of the bedroom, not really. The two of them had never dated in the traditional way, never having been seen in public before.

Chloe understood this and never once complained. She had been born the dirty little secret of a pure-blood wizard from France, who had paid off her muggle-born mother to take her and leave. She knew the ins and outs of the way pureblood families worked and couldn't begrudge Lucius for his family's prejudice to anyone that was anything less than a pure-blood; she didn't blame him but she couldn't help but hate traditions of their society that was taking her love, just like it stole her father.

"I thought you might not want to see me," he told her as they ascended the stairs; it had been this thought that had almost made him turn around and go home several times as he had made his way over to her home. He had genuinely been scared that she would turn him away at the door but he was grateful that she had not.

"I always want to see you, Lucius," she said as they reached the familiar bedroom door. It wasn't her room, it was a guest bedroom and the one they always used. They had both known that their romance would never last, that no matter what happened between them it would end when the Malfoy's found a bride for their only son. It was for this reason that they had tried to keep things as impersonal as it was possible to be. Lucius had never once set foot in the room that Chloe called her own.

"Even tonight, of all nights?" he queried as they let themselves inside the bedroom.

Everything was how they had had left it the last time they had been here; the only things that ever changed here were the sheets, which were always freshly cleaned whenever they arrived. The mahogany four poster bed stood in the centre of the large room, taking pride of place. Deep red love seat, empty chest of drawers, bare dressing table, the walls bare of pictures so that there were never any witnesses to the goings on within these four walls. It was their haven.

"Even tonight," she replied with certainty, as she shut and locked the door, sealing them inside. This was the one place that Lucius felt comfortable to be himself. Outside of this room he was a Malfoy first and foremost; he had to keep up the appearances of such and maintain the family honour. Here, however, he was free to let his heart dictate his head and love the beautiful woman that stood before him now.

He closed the distance between them, his hands taking hold of her hips, pulling her into him and claiming her lips in a passionately desperate kiss. Her arms curled around him, reaching up to run through the long blond hair. Chloe released it from its clasp, allowing it to fall around them as he leaned down to deepen the kiss. There was no better feeling in the world to her, than kissing him.

Both of them were prepared for this, they knew that this was the last time that they would ever be together. Chloe didn't think that she would ever be able to let him go; she had been horrified when, three months ago, he had told her that they would have to say goodbye because he was now betrothed.

That was when she had come up with a plan to keep him and tonight she had something to tell him, something that would surely change his mind. She had been so worried that it wouldn't happen or that if it did that it would be too late; it almost was. She just had to pray that it was enough to stop Lucius going through with the wedding.

"I have something to tell you," she said as their kiss broke, looking up into his grey gaze and smiling; the secret she had, captured in the twinkle in her deep brown eyes. Lucius looked at his lover questioningly, his hand coming up to stroke at one of the curls of her hair. "I'm pregnant."

Lucius froze. "You're…" he managed to say, in a state of shock.

"Pregnant," she said again, a little taken aback that he wasn't smiling or jumping for joy. She remembered her own ecstasy upon the discovery only the day before; but Chloe had underestimated his loyalty, and sense of duty, to his family. She would never understand how deep that ran.

"Is it mine?" he asked; he had to check. It had never been said that they were exclusive in their relationship, such as it was. Not that he had taken any other lovers apart from her but he couldn't be certain that the same was true for Chloe.

"Of course it's yours," she responded, hurt that he would accuse her of sleeping around. She looked at him now as if she wasn't sure who he was. Chloe had expected for Lucius to be pleased, overjoyed, to offer to call off the wedding and marry her instead.

"Why, Chloe, why have you done this?" he asked, trying to understand the reason behind this. They had always been so careful, he couldn't comprehend why she might have done this when she knew that he was to be married to someone else and that they could never be together. Now he had the pain of leaving behind not only the woman he loved but his child as well.

"So we could be together," she told him desperately, trying to explain and not liking the edge of anger in his voice as he demanded answers from her.

"We can never be together," Lucius hissed. "You knew that this would never be permanent."

"I thought…" Chloe began, floundering a little, she hadn't expected for this reaction from her lover. She had been sure that he would have been overjoyed but anger and confusion were two reactions she hadn't been expecting at all.

"You thought what?" Lucius demanded, suddenly feeling anger surging through him. She had no idea how much he wanted this with her and that was what made him so enraged, knowing that despite the fact she was carrying his baby they could still never be together and that he would never know the child, his own flesh and blood.

"I thought we could be together, that you'd…" Chloe said, her voice almost breaking as tears welled up in her eyes. She had to take a step backwards and put some distance between the two of them, unable to believe that Lucius, her Lucius was reacting so badly to this.

"That I'd what? Cancel the wedding?" Lucius asked angrily. "You knew that was never going to happen."

"But I'm having your baby, if it's a boy, it'll be your heir," she said desperately. She wanted to believe that he would drop everything for her and the baby. Chloe hadn't even wanted to be a mother but she was willing to do just about anything to keep Lucius Malfoy, to become a Malfoy herself by marriage; it would give her everything she should have been entitled to at birth if her father had accepted her.

"That's not possible!" Lucius snarled, unable to believe that Chloe had been so foolish. This changed nothing except causing them both more pain. "Even if I wasn't marrying Narcissa in the morning that child would never be the Malfoy heir, boy or not!"

"Lucius… please, I love you; the three of us, we can be together," Chloe said, fear overwhelming her. She had done this for him, for them, so that they could be together. This wasn't how she thought that this evening was going to end up.

"We can never be together," Lucius said harshly. He hadn't realised that Chloe was this delusional. He had thought that they had both been on the same page when it came to their relationship, that she understood that he could never be with her. His family came first and he would never risk being disowned and losing his inheritance for the sake of a woman.

"But the baby…" Chloe said, her hand going to rest upon her abdomen. Her heart was racing as panic set in. The thought of being alone, a single mother, rejected by the man that she was deeply and desperately in love with when she was carrying his baby was too much for her to cope with.

"Is of no concern to me," Lucius said, shutting himself down. He did love her and he wanted her and the baby so much it hurt but he couldn't do it. When faced with the choice between Chloe and his unborn baby, and the Malfoy family along with his inheritance, he knew what he had to do. It was the most painful choice he had ever had to make but he knew that he could never turn his back on his family. Being a Malfoy was his birth right. He would never be able to give the child growing in her belly any kind of life.

"I love you, Lucius," Chloe told him, her tone was pleading and fearful. She didn't want to do this alone. The thought of raising a baby she didn't even want, a child that had already failed to do what it was created for, filled her with dread and sadness.

Lucius looked at her, trying not to show any hint of the sadness and regret that he was feeling as he shut down his heart to all emotion. If he let it in now then he wouldn't be able to walk away and that was something that he knew he had to do. Every possibility ran through his mind, trying to figure out if there was any other way around this but he knew there wasn't. This was goodbye.

"I won't see you again, Chloe," Lucius told her, his voice cold and detached. His words stung her as if he had physically slapped her. It felt as if he had put a knife through her heart it hurt so badly. "You mean nothing to me and that abomination in your womb means even less to me than you do." He had to be certain she would not attempt to return to him for any reason; she could ruin everything.

"You can't mean that," Chloe said, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at Lucius, trying to figure out where the kind and loving man she knew had gone. "Don't do this, please."

"There was never any other way," he told her, reaching up and tying his hair back once more, finalising his words. "Goodbye, Chloe."

He turned on his heel and headed for the door. She stood, frozen in horror, unable to believe that Lucius was actually walking away from her and their baby. Unlocking the door he hesitated, the love he held for her stopping him momentarily. He really had to force himself to open the door and walk away, shutting himself down emotionally as he did.

As she watched him retreat she fell to her knees, her breathing coming out it short sharp bursts as endless tears flowed down her cheeks. Her heart had just walked out the door, and fear and bitterness had taken its place in her chest. She was alone, her and her unborn baby.

FGHP

The next day Lucius Malfoy did his duty, as he had always known he would, and married Narcissa Black in a beautiful ceremony at Malfoy Manor. It was only eight months later, on the fifth June, that Narcissa gave birth to their son and heir, Draco Lucius Malfoy. As he cradled his son in his arms, he didn't have a single thought to spare for his lost love.

Chloe had , unbeknownst to Lucius, birthed a son just thirteen days previously. A boy she named after the father that had abandoned her because that was all she could see in the boy; he was the embodiment of betrayal and abandonment at the hands of the man she loved.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed this chapter ... please review and let us know what you thought.


	20. Jam Tarts

Fragmented Soul: The Furry Bits

Jam Tarts

November 1984

Severus was really not much of a cook, but his four year old son was a curious little boy who wanted to know about everything and always wanted to learn; Severus couldn't exactly discourage this and had been trying his level best to accommodate Harry's keen thirst for knowledge. He had been slightly dubious, however, when the four year old had expressed an interest in learning how to cook. Severus had resisted these interests for a little while, seeing as the boy was still only four, but Harry's pleas, as he looked up at him with those big green eyes, wore him down rather quicker than he would ever admit and he had finally purchased a muggle cookbook designed specifically for children.

"Daddy, look," Harry said from where he was standing on a chair, as he finished adding jam to the last of the small pastry dishes they had made together. Severus had supervised the making of the pastry, not wanting to leave the four year old unsupervised with pastry cutters; once the cases had been made however, he had allowed Harry the freedom to add the jam by himself. The cases themselves had taken them far longer than they should have done as it was, and the kitchen had required more cleaning spells, than it normally would have had too, but they were now almost ready to put their small tray of nine jam tarts in the oven.

"Good job, Harry," Severus said proudly as he looked up from the potions journal he had been reading while sat at the kitchen table, though admittedly he should maybe have been paying more attention to the jam wielding child in his care. Usually he would have been, especially considering it involved Harry attempting to cook, but he had so much work to do that he hadn't been able to just drop it all no matter how much he wanted to.

He cringed as he took in the rather large amount of sticky fruit conserve that seemed to have found its way onto Harry's face, hands and clothes, there was even some in his hair; it was enough to make him very glad for magic, which he used to vanish the worst of it off the small child, though they would still have to wash Harry's hair thoroughly that evening. What he couldn't understand, was how Harry had managed to get the stuff in places that jam should never have been in the first place. Then again the small child was always surprising him in one form or another.

"Cook them now, please," Harry said, picking up the tray with both hands; he used his elbows on the work surface to support the relatively heavy tray, as he held it out for his father who hurriedly dropped his wand on to the counter to take the tray.

Severus quickly took the jam tarts before all their hard work and effort ended up upside down and ruined on the floor and they had to start all over again. "What numbers does it say here, Harry?" he asked, pointing to where the recipe instructed on what temperature to cook at; he had been teaching Harry numbers and he was rather good at recognising them now. Severus took great pride in his son being rather advanced for his age; no muggle school would have taken the time to teach him this well.

"One," Harry said, reading the first number above his Daddy's finger. "Eight?" he asked hesitantly, looking up at his father to make sure, only turning back to the book when Severus gave him a nod of approval. "Zero!" he said excitedly, beaming with pride, throwing his arms up in the air in celebration as he read the final digit.

Severus gave a snort of amusement at his son's enthusiasm, as he went to put the tarts on to cook at one hundred and eighty degrees. When he returned to Harry, his son seemed to be attempting to read the rest of the recipe, even though the four year old had only really learned how to read numbers and a couple of letters so far.

"There's a one and a five," Harry told his father emphatically as he pointed to the page.

Severus peered over Harry's shoulder, not surprised that his son was entirely correct. "That tells us how long they have to be cooked for," he explained, and, picking up his wand from where he had dropped it he cast a simple charm that would make a sound to notify them when fifteen minutes had passed. He knew that Harry would be heartbroken if they ended up over cooked or burnt; Severus wasn't going to take any chances.

"Down, please," Harry said, as he snapped the cookbook closed, holding his hands stretched out, towards his father, waiting only long enough for Severus to take hold of them, giving him the support he needed to bend his knees and jump off the chair. He landed on the kitchen floor on his feet with a thump before turning to look up at his Dad imploringly. "Book, please," he requested, pointing up at the closed recipe book still on the work surface.

Severus, with an amused look, obliged his young son, glad that he had taught Harry such good manners, and that today, at least, Harry was remembering to use them. He smiled fondly as he watched his son as the four year old made his way across the kitchen. The little boy then climbed up onto one of the chairs at the small kitchen table, before kneeling there and opening the book again, his finger trailing over the pages as he pretended to read it. Severus was amazed at how keen Harry was to study the book in such detail when he couldn't even read the words yet.

"Daddy," Harry said, his voice sounding mildly annoyed and an adorable frown of disapproval on his face. "You need to sit and read like me; we're waiting," he demanded with a finger pointed at the potions journal that had been left on the table, open at the page Severus had been reading.

"I suppose we are, Harry," Severus agreed with a fond smile at the small boy. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather I help you read that?" he asked, as picked up the journal he had been reading earlier and went to take a seat next to his son. He certainly had no objections to Harry's attempts to read by himself but knew his ability well enough to know that he would not currently get very far without some assistance.

"No, I'm reading this one," Harry said, covering up the book with his arms when his father tried to lean over and see. "You read that one," he instructed, pointing at the journal again.

Severus met Harry's stern gaze for a moment before picking up his journal and turning to the page he had been reading before. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Harry watching him cautiously; and after a few seconds his son smiled in approval and turned back to the recipe book, his small digit tracing the lines of words across the page.

"No, we have to wait," Harry said in a small whisper that had Severus looking up from his reading curiously. His son was not looking at him however, but rather peering down at the floor next to his chair.

"Harry?" Severus asked, feeling mildly concerned and certainly confused. "Who are you talking to?" he queried gently; he had long since learned that pressing Harry for answers too firmly was the surest way to ensure his silence or a full blown rebellious tantrum where he still wouldn't get the answers he wanted.

"Wolfie," he said, turning to look at his father with exasperation, as though Severus should have known something quite so obvious. "Wolfie wants to eat the Jam Tarts now, but I told him we have to wait because they aren't cooked and we have to wait until the wand goes BING," Harry explained, the last word emphasised with a wave of his arms and followed by a little giggle, that he hid behind his hands.

"Wolfie…?" Severus questioned slowly. He had heard of children having imaginary friends, mostly from the child raising books he had purchased soon after finding himself as Harry's sole carer; but it was something that he had assumed he would not have to deal with, wrongly apparently, and it seemed foolish to have ever thought his bright little boy wouldn't put his wonderful imagination to such a use.

"Yeah, he is THIS big," Harry said stretching his arms as wide as they could go, "and he is a wolf, but he isn't like me; he can't be a person. He is a wolf all the time, like you is a person all the time," he explained, smiling happily at his father who was still watching him in surprise.

Of all the animals Harry could have chosen it had to be a wolf. Severus sighed fondly at his son. "Is that so? And what is Wolfie doing now?" he asked curiously. It was certainly going to take some getting used to talking about something quite so fanciful as Harry's imaginary friend and he found himself vaguely wondering exactly how long this 'Wolfie' was going to be a part of their lives.

"He's sitting next to me by the floor," Harry explained happily, leaning on the table and peering towards the oven impatiently. "But he really, REALLY wants jam tarts," he added, turning back to his father with a hopeful expression.

"Will Wolfie maybe have some fruit before he has a jam tart?" Severus asked, trying to hide his amusement as Harry looked to the vacant space on the floor and then seemed to think about it.

"Nope" the four year old said decisively. "Just the jam tarts please, Daddy." Harry shut the cookbook he had been reading and pushed it away; apparently he was done with it now and his eyes seemed to going from Severus' wand on the work surface to his still cooking treats in the oven.

"Well even if Wolfie doesn't want a piece of fruit, perhaps you should have one before you have the sweets," Severus suggested, pushing the fruit bowl along the table in Harry's direction.

Harry eye's shifted towards the large bowl that was filled with an assortment of fruits, before turning his father. "Buuuuuuut Daddy... I don't want fruit, it's icky," he whined, making Severus laugh as the little boy pouted.

"You know the rules, Harry," Severus told him firmly.

The potions master then watched in fascination as Harry turned to the empty space on the floor and began to whisper. After a few moments of this he turned back to his father and with a stubbornly determined look on his face.

" Wolfie says nope" Harry said again, as if that was the end of the matter.

"Harry, this is very simple; you will not be eating any jam tarts until you have eaten a piece of fruit," Severus reiterated. It was a rule he had set down early, in fact the moment he had learnt that his son had a sweet tooth, and it was one he was sticking to, no matter how stubborn his son was going to be about it today. Getting Harry to eat anything that wasn't loaded with sugar was an uphill struggle every day.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at Wolfie for a second before turning back to his Daddy. "Wolfie says you're a meanie head," Harry said grumpily, before leaning over the table and snatching up a banana.

"Do you need me to start peeling it, Harry?" Severus asked, completely ignoring the four year olds attempt at insulting him. He was just glad that his son had cooperated relatively easily rather than throwing a temper tantrum, as he had been known to over the request to eat fruit and vegetables before.

"I can do it," Harry insisted stubbornly, holding the banana out of his father's reach when Severus went to help him remove the skin.

As proud as Severus was over his son finding his independence, he often thought he could have done it without the attitude mixed in. He watched on as his four year old son, who couldn't quite break the end off, managed to split the banana skin and peel it. It was hardly the tidiest or most efficient attempt at peeling a banana that Severus had ever seen in his lifetime but Harry had been right, he could do it.

He was just opening his mouth to praise his son for this achievement when Harry, having discarded the peel on to the table, placed the peeled fruit in front of him, raising his hand up above it, and smashing it down. Severus watched on, frozen in surprise at Harry's unexpected act of rebellion that had come from nowhere. The piece of fruit had become squished under his little hand, resulting in a delightful look to spread across the young boys face. Pleased with himself and what he had done, Harry took a second swing, with his other hand, the first one staying in the mashed up mess, playing with it between his little fingers and spreading it around the table, making the mess seem far worse.

"Harry Prince!" Severus said in outrage, finally finding his voice. "No!" he added as he managed to grab Harry's wrist gently in one hand before the third strike could land. "That is completely unacceptable, Harry. Do you understand me?" he demanded, catching Harry's other wrist when the four year old went to start mashing the fruit further with his other hand.

"But it's for Wolfie," Harry whimpered, his voice wavering as a tantrum threatened, and he bounced up and down on his knees, trying to pull his wrists free from Severus' loose but unrelenting grip.

"There was no reason for this mess, Harry," Severus pointed out to his son, as he crouched down to his level. "If you wanted to mash the banana you should have asked me and we could have put it in a bowl and used a fork."

"But this was better, Daddy," Harry said crossly, with a scowl on his face that Severus knew all too well had been learned from him.

"No, Harry, it was not," he retorted, trying to keep a lid on his temper. At that moment the alert spell he had set for the jam tarts went off and Severus silently cursed the timing.

"Daddy, Daddy," Harry said excitedly, bouncing on his knees. "Jam tarts, Daddy."

"I am aware," Severus told him sternly. "Now, stay here and…"

"Quick, Daddy, before they go all black like when you normally cook," Harry interrupted, sounding actually quite upset at the prospect; it was something which Severus understood himself, given the time and effort that had gone into them but he could not allow Harry's behaviour to go unchecked. The little boy was cheeky enough without believing he could get away with acting up like this.

"They will be fine for a few seconds, Harry," Severus explained, keeping his voice stern and ignoring the insult to his cooking skills that had improved slightly over the years but still left much to be desired.

He picked his son up from where the little boy was kneeling and sat the four year old on the chair being carefully to avoid the rather messy, banana coated hands. Harry however seemed to be determined to get up to go rescue his jam tarts from the oven but Severus kept sitting him back down and after three attempts his son finally seemed ready to listen.

"Stay here and do not touch that banana again, unless it is to eat it," he told the young boy sternly, and Harry gave him a grumpy nod, glowering rather cutely at his Dad. One thing that Severus had discovered that when Harry was angry or grumpy he looked even more adorably cute than ever and he truly hoped he never grew out of that.

Realising it was the best he was going to get for the moment, Severus picked up his wand, removing the jam tarts from the oven with a slight flick of his wrist. He levitated them across onto the work surface, which he had charmed to be heat resistant after some of the burn marks that had been caused by his early attempts at cooking.

"Harry…" Severus said in a warning tone when he saw that his son was getting up off his chair to come and check on his precious creations. The four year old was practically itching to jump up and Severus could see that he was warring with himself about whether or not to directly disobey instructions and check on his jam tarts or not.

"Me and Wolfie want to see them please, Daddy," Harry pleaded, looking longingly over to the counter where his creations were sat with steam coming off them as they cooled. Severus, however, wasn't having any of it. He was going to make it very clear that the behaviour Harry had displayed was not going to be taken lightly.

"They are fine, Harry," Severus informed him, he didn't want Harry having a full blown temper tantrum, in fact that was the last thing he needed. He did need to make it very clear, however, what he was going to accept and what he wasn't. "Before you look at your jam tarts, I think we need to talk about your behaviour."

"Sorry, Daddy, sorry, sorry, sorry," Harry said quickly and clearly not really meaning it. "I said it; so can I see now?"

"I am glad you said sorry, Harry," Severus told him, though he could have laughed at how his son had apologised. He walked back over to his son and crouched in front of him to make eye contact; apologising and not meaning it just to get what you wanted was a decidedly Slytherin move and, not for the first time, he found himself wondering at just how much Harry was starting to take after him. "But I want you to tell me what you are sorry for," he added.

The four year old considered this for a moment, clearly thinking very hard. "Making a mess?" Harry asked quietly, looking down at the floor. He seemed to be a little ashamed of what he had done but where Harry was concerned Severus couldn't be sure, sometimes he thought that the little boy was far too smart for his own good.

"And…" Severus prompted, wanting to make sure that Harry understood what he had done wrong. Apologising was all very well and good but Severus needed to make sure that his son knew what he was apologising for and wasn't just saying it because he thought that was what Severus wanted to hear.

Fidgeting and clearly getting rather frustrated, Harry thought very hard, just wanting desperately to check on his jam tarts. "Not doing what I was told?" Harry tried, but his attention was not on his father but on the baked treats that were on the side across the kitchen. "The jam tarts, Daddy, please," he requested eagerly.

"I'm not sure you deserve any," Severus told him with a frown. He disliked punishing Harry, he seemed far too sweet and innocent after the temper tantrums and spouts of rebellion and Severus did so struggle to reprimand the young boy. The punishments never seemed to fit the crime, he always let Harry off lightly.

"Please, Daddy, I'm really sorry," Harry said earnestly and though Severus was sure that his son was only sorry that he wasn't being allowed his jam tarts rather than feeling genuinely apologetic for his behaviour.

"After you eat some fruit," he told the four year old with a sigh as Harry gazed at him pleadingly with bright green eyes. He always struggled to say no to him when he gave that look. However even if there was no punishment for what he had done, Severus was determined that he would still get Harry to eat some fruit. On that front he wasn't going to allow the four year old to stand victorious.

"Do I have to eat that banana?" Harry asked, looking at the half mashed banana in disgust; it really didn't look very tasty now. Most of it he would have to lick off the table if he were forced to eat it.

"No," Snape said, with a scowl of disapproval at the mess on their kitchen table. "You will select another piece of fruit and eat it like the good boy I know you can be when you want to."

"Okay, Daddy," Harry agreed, "apple, please." he asked sweetly. It always amazed Severus that Harry could go from a little nightmare to the sweetest child that a father could ask for in no time at all.

"You'll wash your hands first, young man," Severus instructed sternly, looking at the bits of banana that still covered his son's hands. He didn't fancy the house stinking of banana for the next week as he located every sticky banana fingerprint and washed it off the walls.

Harry slid off the chair and made his way over to the sink. Severus followed, wrapping an arm around his son's waist and lifting him up, to help him clean off the mashed banana, scrubbing them thoroughly with soap and warm water twice until Severus was happy that the little boy was banana free.

Only once the four year olds hands were clean and dry, did Severus place Harry back on his feet and go to retrieve an apple from the fruit bowl. "Now would you like me to cut it up for you?" he asked.

Harry shook his head, "No, thank you, Daddy," he replied as Severus handed the apple over to his son. He watched on for a moment as Harry then obediently took a small bite from it. At least that would keep Harry busy for a little while, which would give him time to clean up the mess Harry made of their table with the banana and then extract the Jam Tarts from their tray to cool.

FGHP

It had taken Harry a little while to finish his apple, but once he had done so, Severus had allowed him to eat just one of the jam tarts; of course Harry had thought it terribly unfair that he wasn't allowed to eat all nine in one go, but Severus had been quite clear on the matter and placed the remaining eight away in a box for eating later. Personally he wasn't a fan of sugary treats in any form and therefore wouldn't be eating any himself.

They'd since eaten dinner and washed up; Harry had had his bath and was now in his pyjamas; Severus was enjoying his evening reading, while Harry played. The young boy would occasionally disappear off up to his room to fetch another toy and bringing it back down to the living room to play with but other than that the evening was calm and as it should be. It was how they spent most of their evenings; Severus really did enjoy watching his little boy play, even with the addition of him sharing hushed whispers with Wolfie.

It was during one of these trips out of the room, however, that Harry came to the conclusion that it was dark outside now and they had eaten dinner, which had had too many vegetables for his liking, so in his mind it definitely qualified as later on; and that was when his Dad had promised that he could have another of his yummy jam tarts.

Harry peered carefully around the doorframe of the living room, and could see his Daddy was still reading, completely engrossed in his new potions book that he had ordered weeks ago. For a moment Harry considered asking him permission to have another jam tart, but he didn't want to disturb his Daddy from what he was doing and he did know where the jam tarts were; besides, he was sure that his Daddy would only say no and ruin everything. He would just go get one himself and then be back before his Daddy noticed anything.

Giggling a little to himself with excitement he headed into the kitchen on tiptoe. Though he quickly realised that it was too dark and, looking at the light switch, he frowned, as it was too high and out of his reach. He hadn't told his Daddy that he could sometimes make things happen when he really wanted them to; of course he hadn't been allowed a wand yet but he had discovered that he could still use magic to make things happen regardless.

He focused on what he wanted. He needed to be able to see; he couldn't reach the light switch but he could feel his little body thrumming with magic. Suddenly, with no warning, several little balls of light appeared, hovering in the room, illuminating it; he grinned up at them happily as they lit the room.

Now that he could see Harry was confronted with another problem. He glared up at the kitchen counter and at how high it was not to mention how out of reach the box of jam tarts were. Thinking things through very carefully, he looked around the room for a solution. Deciding that he would use a chair, like he had for cooking earlier, he pushed it across the room with great effort; it was easy to climb up and reach the box then.

"Jam Tarts, Wolfie," he told his invisible friend as he pulled the lid off the box. "They're all sticky," he said happily as he prodded the top of one with a finger and giggled happily again.

He picked one up and bit into it; they really were very yummy and he didn't understand why his Daddy hadn't wanted to eat one earlier. Harry had just finished eating it, and was in the process of reaching for a second, when a very stern voice exclaimed, "Harry Prince!" and made him jump; apparently that was enough to break his magical lights, because it suddenly went dark.

"What on earth do you think you are doing?" Severus demanded from the doorway to the kitchen, as he flicked the light switch. He had thought that his son had been absent for too long and come to find out what sort of trouble he was into now; he supposed he shouldn't have been too surprised to catch his son with a hand in the cookie jar, so to speak. Though he had been rather impressed by the magic the four year old had clearly used to illuminate the room.

"Wolfie ate one," Harry told his father quickly, as he turned on the chair to smile at Severus innocently. And there it was again, little devil child to sweet, innocent angel in seconds, it was enough to make Severus want to pull his hair out in frustration. He loved his little boy, he really did, but sometimes the James in him really was too much to handle.

"Really?" Severus asked sceptically, trying his very best not to show how amused he was by his son's obvious lie. If he didn't look on the funny side of the situations that Harry got himself into and the things that he said then he would have lost the last threads of his sanity a long time ago. "Did Wolfie also smear crumbs and jam on your face, Harry?" he queried as he crossed the kitchen towards his son.

Harry quickly covered up his mouth with his little hands in an attempt to hide the rather damning evidence and nodded, his little laughs were barely smothered behind the sticky fingers.

"Harry," Severus said with a sigh, "what am I going to do with you?"

"Help me eat the rest of the jam tarts?" Harry suggested hopefully and Severus couldn't help but laugh. He honestly didn't know whether to be more proud or frustrated with his son, but Harry really was going to be the death of him, he was sure. Even if Harry had a very James streak in him, he still loved the boy dearly, despite him pushing boundaries and causing trouble at every turn.

"I don't think so, young man," Severus told him. "I think it's time to wash your face, brush your teeth and go to bed."

"But…" Harry went to say but stopped when he saw the look that his father was giving him.

"Before you say no, you should count yourself lucky that I'm not throwing the rest of your jam tarts away," he told the four year old in a tone that made it quite clear that he was in no mood to be argued with. "Now, if you do as you're told without any fuss then I'll read you a bedtime story. It's up to you, Harry."

Harry looked to be debating this for a moment, he even appeared to be consulting with Wolfie, however, he seemed to come to the conclusion that Severus' terms were acceptable. He nodded, climbing down from his chair, checking behind him to make sure Wolfie was following him before charging out of the door. Severus watched him go before sealing up the tin of jam tarts, putting them away in the cupboard and then following in his son's wake just as a loud crash sounded from upstairs.

"It wasn't me, it was Wolfie!" He heard his son shout down the stairs causing him to grimace, trudging wearily up the stairs to see what had had been broken.

* * *

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